I woke up this morning at 8:12 am after the Central Washington sun turned my tent into a nylon oven. I grabbed a camping chair and sat down in the patch of shade from its cast shadow, and just thought about OutKast’s mainstage closing set last night.

How was that real? My longtime fandom aside, Big Boi and Andre 3000 put on a straight-up legendary show. 3 Stacks rocked a white wig and shades, and a black jumpsuit with “everything is temporary.” (!!!) emblazoned across the front in Helvetica with a giant price tag hanging off one hip, reading “SOLD OUT” on one side, “FOR SALE” on the other. Big Boi had a Chicago Bulls hat and huge gold rope chain and medallion on to complement his more traditional black shirt/camo pants/Jordans getup. They emerged from a cube with the black and white stars and stripes from the Stankonia cover glowing across all sides (LOOK AT THAT FUCKING PICTURE WOW GREAT SHOT JOSH), Andre standing atop a chair, one arm raised upwards in salute, Big Boi sitting hunched over on another, with a simple table between them (Andre would later talk about the duo’s beginnings, sitting around a kitchen table and rapping over A Tribe Called Quest instrumentals played from a boombox). The opening combination of Stankonia cuts “B.O.B.” into “Gasoline Dreams” set it the fuck off—especially with a live backing band. After that start, and with their extensive catalog of American classics, OutKast was the definition of “unfuckwithable.”

The setlist did play it fairly safe, sticking to their singles—they also did “Ms. Jackson” and “So Fresh So Clean” off Stankonia, “ATLiens” and “Elevators” from ATLiens, and the title track, “Player’s Ball,” “Crumblin’ Erb” and “Hootie Hoo” from Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, but Aquemini edged all the other albums out with “Rosa Parks,” “Skew It on the Bar-B,” “Da Art Of Storytellin (Part 1),” that title track, and “Spottiottiedopaliscious.” Bringing out Sleepy Brown to sing his parts was an added bonus, his purple robe looking as silky as his voice sounded.

The performance of “Aquemini” was particularly sublime—Big Boi and Andre rejoined inside the cube, which was now illuminated with wavy aquatic (eyyyy) patterns, assuring us “nothing is fa sho, nothin' is for certain, nothin' lasts forever, but until they close the curtain.. it’s him and I, Aquemini.” With the completely dark, cavernous Gorge behind them and the Big Dipper right overhead the crowd, it gave me chills. Everything is temporary—music careers, festivals, relationships, humans, the fucking Earth. Even the sun goes down, heroes eventually die.

Additional highlights included Andre’s generally goofy demeanor and banter, short solo sets from each member, and a performance of UGK’s “International Player’s Anthem” that made everything complete. No hyperbole, but I feel like a more complete person after that set, like I checked something off my life to-do list, like I’m “vibrating higher.” And with this kind of 20-year reunion tour, Outkast is cementing themselves as one of the greatest music groups of this, or any era.