I’ve always thought band reviews in newspapers were worthless; a picture of a group and writer’s description: The Tomato Munchie Gods, self-described “funk-prog-indo-rock” is a mix of the Joe Schmo cover band and the Bengals. Thanks, but I won’t be plopping down any money or wasting a night out to see a band I may not like after their first song.

But although I dislike the typical band review, there is a band I have to tell you about. And the best way I can think of explaining their worth is showing the great lengths I have gone to see them over the past five years.

I watched a TV show called “Bands on the Run” on VH1 and picked the band that would win in the very first episode (my brother lost five dollars over my pick). It was this band from Texas-the name was hard to remember, ‘Flick’something-but after I saw them play one song, I knew I had discovered a hidden treasure. Five guys with the most powerful live show I had ever seen. I’ve seen a lot of great concerts-Green Day, 311, Incubus, System of a Down, Aerosmith, Sevendust, Santana, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant-but nothing has ever come close to the band, Flickerstick.

At 16, I was in a panic to see these guys play; they were on a national tour after winning “Bands on the Run,” and I had no idea if they would disappear after their 15 minutes of fame. With a new car and only three weeks of driving experience, I drove two hours to watch the most mesmerizing show I had ever seen: A band that took Jagermeister shots and rolled around on stage, playing like it was the most important show of their lives.

And I only paid $12.

Since then, I’ve traveled over 2,000 miles in the past five years to see Flickerstick ten times. I’ve driven five hours from Wilmington to Columbia, South Carolina to watch them play for an hour in a small, crowded bar, I’ve made back-to-back trips to Raleigh and Charlotte and even hung out with the guys after their one show in Wilmington, two years ago at Marrz Theatre.

Flickerstick is led by Brandin, a singer who always looks exhausted, searching through stage lights that blind him, lost in his own wails. His brother, Fletcher, the bass player (who resembles That 70s Show’s Danny Masterson), has his eyes closed, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, keeping the smoke from burning his eyes, but never missing a note.

Tim, Cory Kreig’s suitable replacement on guitar, jumps with Fletcher to the popular song, ‘Coke,’ and is really a sight to see. Then there is Rex Ewing, a man who always appears too drunk to play, but survives every night onstage. He rolls around the stage and plays his guitar mercilessly; he’s been affectionately dubbed, ‘El Dangerouso.’

Todd, the drummer, plays so hard I’d expect the skins to break (I’ve been subject to his choke holds after shows as well, equally as hard). He is a fresh face, excited by fans when told how incredible of a drummer he is. Todd replaced Dominic years ago, but after seeing Todd play the drums, I could never imagine a Flickerstick without him.

I’ve seen Flickerstick play in front of 300 people (Lupo’s in Providence, Rhode Island), down to a handful of people (Pearl Street Club in Northampton, Massachusetts), but they played exactly the same way every single time. Lineup changes, new albums, small venues or huge blowouts; it doesn’t matter.

Flickerstick isn’t a band-it’s an experience. I can give no better endorsement; I’ll eat Ramen noodles for a month to pay for ten dollar tickets and gas money to see the greatest live band I have ever experienced and to talk with guys who play their heart out every single time.

I’ve brought a death metal singer, a Steve Vai fan and a girl who only loved the Backstreet Boys to Flickerstick and won each of them over. Do whatever you have to do; visit their website, flickerstick.com, download a few songs, borrow a friends CD-whatever it takes.This month, April 27th, Flickerstick will be at the Lincoln Theatre in Raleigh. I’ll be there, I suggest you make the trip, too.