Special Guest Columnist: Weasel, The Puppy Born Without Ears, Has Some Dogged Questions About The State Of Alt-Rock

From time to time, Idolator solicits commentaries from the general public. And once again, we’re briefly turning the site over to Weasel, the puppy born without ears. Weasel has some interesting things to say, and we hope you’ll make him feel right at home.

Hello, I am Weasel, the puppy born without ears.

I have no ears.

And yet, despite this, I have persevered with trying to develop a sense of sound. It is a painful process, and sometimes it makes me scratch my head in frustration, causing my jagged nails to dig into my gaping, unprotected ear-hole.

Lord, how it do hurt.

But I keep at it, for listening to your human-sounds may allow me to better understand your behavior. And so last night, I went on your elbo.ws site, where I found this song by someone named Dntel. I then borrowed the whole album from one of your Idolators, and played it several times, listening as the light, electronic sounds were accompanied by such singers as Bright Eyes, Jenny Lewis, and someone named Grizzly Bear, who is not an actual bear.

And as I nodded my earless head, I thought to myself: Are you guys serious with this shit?

Again: I am but a newborn puppy, and even I am aware that the “anti-yup-rock” tirade is fourteen years old (at least in dog years). But I can’t help but raise a whimper at the fact that so many of you have become so–how can I say this?–completely ball-less. Do you even care anymore? I mean, I like the mellow stuff sometimes, but everyone seems to lazily surrender to whatever non-intrusive weenie-rock that Paste and Stereogum poop up their nose.

Did I get that right? Still learning human anatomy. Sorry.

Look, I realize it’s not really that big of a deal. There are more important things to worry about, like Iraq, where people are dying every day, and where the only things the Sunnis and Shiites can agree upon is that listening to Conor Oberst mew over a bunch of lullaby-background music is an affront to the creator. But this album is the summation of everything wrong with circa-2007 alt-rock, and when I listen to it, it makes my stomach clutch in pain, as if a million dog-whistles were being blown at once.

Not that I could hear that.

Woof!

WTPBWE