Let's make something clear — NRG Stadium was a different dimension last night. Beyonce's Renaissance World Tour touched down for a nearly three-hour homecoming performance nothing short of breathtaking, inspiring and transcendental. She served, she slayed and she absolutely dominated the hell out of every single Houstonian in the room.

“Houston, I’ve been waiting this whole tour to perform for my people! I want y’all to know I take y’all everywhere I go, I will always rep Houston. I hope you guys had an unforgettable night,” said our hometown hero, professing her love for The H, mounted atop a silver horse set to take flight above the stadium floor well past midnight.
Somewhere around 9:30 p.m., before that glitter cannon-drenched flying finale (“Summer Renaissance”), Beyoncé emerged in clouds, on a mammoth stage befit for the queen, beginning the nearly 40-song setlist with a block of ballads that placed her voice front and center. She vacillated between operatic registers and soulful melismas, oft within one song or a single phrase (“Dangerously In Love”), sang with chest piercing resonance and a wisdom that could be received by only an outstretched arm, open hand (“1+1”). She wielded her mic stand as a weapon (“I Care”) and masterfully covered her direct musical lineage (Tina Turner’s “River Deep, Mountain High”).

That understated opening segment only gave way to the ensuing spectacle: a state of the art, high octane intergalactic journey into Beyonce's Renaissance, a solar system in which all planets, moons, and stars orbit around the sun Beyoncé. The conditions here are liberating; the ruler, relentless; resources, unlimited.

Backdropped by a colossal LED screen, every minutiae was magnified to epic proportions as the energy ratcheted up into stratospheres Bey’s live sets are known for. Renaissance cuts gripped the set as giant metallic arms danced around the queen and her undeniable bravado (“Cozy”); a tight, centered backing band led an exuberant stadium through a communal groove (“Cuff It”) and a vocally impeccable Bey through precise passages (“Plastic Off the Sofa”). She pierced through bars, rapping like The Wicked Witch of the West The Bad Bitch of Third Ward. A viral trend known as the mute challenge, in which the audience attempts to play the quiet game on cue, was pretty damn successful (“Energy”). Deeper cuts elated the ride or dies (“Rather Die Young”); classic cuts proved that some things never go out of style (“Crazy In Love”).
In what might have been the most dizzying stretch of the show, Beyoncé tapped into total liberation mode. Renaissance’s “Break My Soul (Queen’s Remix),” paid homage to house music, Queen Mother Madonna, and a plethora of iconic black artists in a “Vogue” sendup before launching into “Formation,” which still feels just as dangerous as it did the day before the Super Bowl, segueing into a combative run of “Diva,” morphing into “Run the World (Girls)”, which is just massive, man.

Blue Ivy graced the stage in a mother-daughter torch passing (“My Power”) before Beyoncé pulled up on an army tank (“Black Parade)” which culminated in a special appearance from Houston’s own Megan Thee Stallion (“Savage Remix”), flames blazing, proclaiming: “I’m that bitch, been that bitch, still that bitch, will forever be that bitch.”

By the time Beyoncé and her silver horse were flying above the stadium floor, there were no crumbs left on NRG’s plate — only jaws on the floor, hands in the air, chills down your spine, maybe some tears streamed down as well. If only that flying horse was a viable mode of public transit out of the stadium.

The crowd: Dressed in silver, as instructed.

Random notebook dump: Shoutout to the guy with the green sign that read: Everybody on Mute! = STFU!