Suckers — every last one of them. And by that, I mean the many badge-toting critics who spent most of their Friday night waiting in line to see Jack White's Third Man Records showcase.

Don't get me wrong; the former White Stripe is undoubtedly one of his generation's only real deal rock stars, so the idea of seeing him in an intimate setting is tempting in theory. It's a waste of time in practice, however, as South by Southwest isn't about praying at the altars of guitar gods. It's about discovering new artists, or finally seeing the mid-sized ones you've been meaning to see for a while now.

Which leads me to a short list of standouts from my most exhausting yet fulfilling day of the festival thus far: King Tuff soloing his way through broken strings and glitter-dusted glam jams; Sepalcure turning house music on its head; a dreadlock-less Mr. Lif batting restless rhymes around the steel-plated beats of Blackalicious' Chief Xcel; a guy in an Eyehategod T-shirt appreciating the doom-y undertones of Chelsea Wolfe; and Cloud Nothings tearing through their new album like a Midwestern punk band that can't wait to skip town for good.

And now, some photo documentation...

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