I like Rolling Stone magazine. I've taken to this very blog to extol its virtues in the past. I might have even called it my high-school crush at one point. But these days, boyfriend, I'm not feeling the love so much.

By now, you've probably heard the Cinderella story of The Sheepdogs, the unknown, unsigned Saskatchewan band that beat 15 other hopefuls to win Rolling Stone's Choose the Cover contest.

In a reader-voted contest, Canadian rockers The Sheepdogs beat out 15 other competitors to become the first unsigned band on the cover of Rolling Stone. (Rolling Stone/Associated Press)

Chosen by RS readers, the 'Dogs got to be on the magazine's current cover, perform at the Bonnaroo Festival and -- most significantly for their careers -- sign with Atlantic Records. The antithesis of skinny boys in skinny pants playing minimalist basslines, The Sheepdogs have long hair, big beards and bell-bottoms straight out of an Allman Brother's closet. The band's sound is also throwback -- a combo of '70s swirling guitar licks and lush vocals la Southern stoner rock bands like the Black Crowes.

I think that wild, uncool authenticity was precisely why these guys won over 1.5 million voters: there is something in the big sound, big hair and big harmonies you can sink your teeth into. It's somehow comforting in these times of uncertain economy and overused Autotune.

Another aspect of The Sheepdogs' story made them the perfect winners: they're not from Toronto or Montreal, but the unlikely musical Mecca of Saskatoon. Rolling Stone seemed to like that geographic tidbit just a little too much.

At an airport a few days ago, I was thrilled to pick up the issue fronted with a slick picture of The Sheepdogs and banner reading "Canada Beats US in Battle of Bands" (Oooh, how it made my little Cancon heart beat!).

But inside, my patriotic fervor turned to indignation as I read the cover story by contributing editor Austin Scaggs. To say the piece was bursting with Canadian clichs would be like saying Lady Gaga is a slightly offbeat dresser.

'Welcome to Saskatchewan -- the writer seems to say -- a land of hopeless, incomprehensible drunks with no musical talent.' -- Deana Sumanac

Over a four-page article, Scaggs follows the band to what he paints as the charmless backwater from which they sprang. His task is made difficult by guitarist Leot Hanson's "Saskatchewan accent so thick you sometimes can't understand what he's saying." The adventure the band takes him on seems to inspire such revulsion for this backwards locale that you can imagine the writer seeking a tetanus shot upon return to his New York office.

And it gets worse. The Sheepdogs take him to a bar that's akin to "a sex farm for blithering drunks." From inside, "toothless degenerates, binge-drinking collegians and alcoholic members of the First Nations" fall out.

Just when I'm hearing the tune from Deliverance in my head, Scaggs meets me there. Yep, outside another bar, a guy is playing that theme on his banjo. It's apparently nothing compared to the awful-sounding locals testing their luck at an open mic night, nor the sound of the "awful yet extremely popular Canadian band The Tragically Hip" emanating from the bar.

Welcome to Saskatchewan -- he appears to say -- a land of hopeless, incomprehensible drunks with no musical talent.

The band's quotes and behaviour don't exactly help. Sheepdogs lead singer Ewan Currie is depicted either in pursuit of weed, retelling weed-related stories or high as a kite for the entire article. Another band member describes Saskatoon as "big enough where you can have sex with a girl and, if you're lucky, not see her again for three weeks."

No doubt these guys are not Leonard Cohen and I'm not saying they should be. I understand that the band's un-PC behaviour is precisely the image the members have chosen -- and the one Rolling Stone has chosen to perpetuate: throwbacks in sound, throwbacks in attitude. You could easily picture Keith Moon partying with these dudes.

I'm not accusing Scaggs of being less than truthful in his representation, but the tone he presents is mean-spirited and hurtful -- especially to all those, particularly from Saskatoon, who so proudly took to the internet to vote in The Sheepdogs.

For the love of Saskatoon-raised Joni Mitchell, how could the sound 1.5 million people championed come from a place apparently so unworthy of respect? How could a country that provided Rolling Stone such diverse musical darlings as Feist, Nelly Furtado and Drake be so worthy of ridicule?

Am I being overly sensitive? What do you think?