Ah, Day 3. If you’re not tired and kind of sore from standing, then you have not been at the last few days. Festival veterans probably wanted to take it easy on Sunday, but it was virtually impossible, with awesome acts playing one after another, from 2 p.m. until the festival’s close.

Right when you got to the festival, you had to make some tough choices: Cass McCombs or Best Coast? Watch the whole set by Girls, or rush over and try to catch a glimpse of Washed Out? With people lining up for their favorites already, you could not be flimsy with your choices. But the hectic rush was soothed by the sounds of a band hitting Stage C: Beach House began to play. It was like perfect nod-off-in-the-sun-for-20-minutes music, yet you couldn’t fall asleep and miss the band! Singer Victoria Legrand muttered out smooth, elongated notes to the Pitchfork crowds, making them sway and nod in unison.

If you decided to leave Beach House’s set early, you probably caught at least part of the Local Natives performance at Stage B, where the dance party was reinstated! The two drummers made intricate layers of beats, while four of the guys wailed and howled into their microphones. And the main singer looked a bit like a modern Freddie Mercury, with his mustache and persona and everything! Local Natives did an excellent Talking Heads cover, with the bassist holding it all together and giving the crowds the main instrument for moving their bodies.

Stage B after that was just band after band after band of awesome. Next up was Surfer Blood, with their cute surf-pop hits. Singer JP Pitts really took the lead with stage presence, as he roamed the stage amps looking for cheers from the crowd. The keyboardist, too, is interesting to watch as he bobs a head of massively curly hair up and down like crazy. The boys also brought a guest to the stage; those in back could probably not see the stuffed animal raccoon hanging out center stage for the entire show, but he was there. Oh, he was there, staring at the front row as if to say, “Quit hanging over me! Look at the hair on the back of my neck.” (Yup, those are the opening lyrics to Surfer Blood’s party jam, “Swim.”)

If you had time, you undoubtedly ran over for a peek at St. Vincent‘s set on Stage C. It’s hard to tell what knocked the crowds out first, her looks or her voice. She was just so lovely in orange! Her gorgeous voice was augmented by the accompanying flute, violin and/or saxophone. Awesome. Then you might have gotten a glimpse of Here We Go Magic or some break-dancing kids backstage really quickly before heading over to the main stage to prepare for — wait for it — Major Lazer!!!

It’s hard to deny, Major Lazer stole the show on Day 3. Who else had two Chinese dragons enter the stage? Who else had two bootylicious ladies shake it out while pouring booze down their throats? Who else had Diplo throwing down tracks in the back, with a cardboard sign that reads, “DIPLO RULZ”? Exactly. The biggest problem with the performance was having to decide to watch Skerrit Bwoy‘s every single amazing jump and hump onstage, or distracting yourself long enough to let your own booty shake.

If you had the power to draw yourself away from Major Lazer, then you had time to hear some of Neon Indian‘s set at Stage B. Even though the band was competing with Major Lazer, they still drew quite a big crowd (who had probably camped out there to stay in front). It was perfect music for the moment: chill enough to let you catch your breath from other shows, but dancey enough to keep the groove going. And oh yes, they played “Deadbeat Summer,” second to last. And there was certainly the most perplexing fashion choice on the Neon Indian stage. The guitarist wore a Care Bear shirt (even though it looked more like a nightgown) over jeans…and it was hard to tell, but were those Care Bears holding light sabers?

Now was the toughest choice all day. Do you head over and line up for Big Boi at Stage C, or do you camp out and wait for Sleigh Bells? There’s no way you can see both, though you might be able to hear the rumbles of the other show from afar. It sucks to have to choose, but if you think about it, either show was awesome. There was no wrong choice! Except that Sleigh Bells had some technical difficulties, forcing lead singer Alexis Krauss to test the sound (simply by yelling “Check!”) even mid-song.

And then…finally…it was time…for Pavement. Kids who were tripping on drugs lined up in front hours before, just to soak in the most amazing ’90s throwback of their young lives. If you’re not familiar with the band, it’s probably because they disbanded in 1999 and only recently reunited to squeals of delight from their massive cult following. Every side of the stage was mobbed with people. Front (with your lovely, enthused festival goers) and both sides and all tents and all views everywhere backstage were taken up with people watching the dudes onstage do their thing.

And if you noticed, the skies above were lit with this strange twilight blue color, with planes flying really low (as if they wanted to watch Pavement’s performance too). The air was cooler, and people were smiling. It was a fantastic moment.

So what’s the best thing to do after that? Celebrate with fireworks, sparklers and bubbles! Or booze and more booze! Or, dang, after a weekend like that, a good night’s rest.