The Rest Is Just Noise: Are you a true fanatic?

Molly Schreiber

So, you think you love your favorite band? Prove it. 

Of course, many fans all over the world attempt to do just that with a personal homage to their favorite artists, and  the possibilities are infinite. 

There is always the option of a run-of-the-mill poster shrine complemented by an admirable display of ticket stubs. If you’re really devoted, though, a tattoo might be the way to go. 

Over time, however, these seemingly endless tributary opportunities have become somewhat clichéd. 

How then, as faithful fans, can we prove our undying loyalty and transcendent dedication? 

For one Wilco fan, the answer was clear: a Wilco-themed restaurant. 

The restaurant, aptly titled the Sky Blue Sky Sandwich Company, is owned by dedicated Wilco fan and restaurateur, Chad Comfort. 

The small eatery, situated in Toronto’s Koreatown, offers freshly baked bread, made-from-scratch-soups, fresh cookies and, of course, a slew of sandwiches. 

The sandwiches, in keeping with the culinary theme, are the icing atop Comfort’s cake. 

Each sandwich, without exception, is named after a Wilco tune. And the attention to detail does not stop there. 

The sandwiches are carefully assigned to a song that complements or parodies the contents of the delectable dining option. 

 For example, the “One Wing” sandwich offers “thinly sliced oven-roasted turkey with cream cheese, cranberry sauce and a hint of stuffing served on our very own cranberry and cream cheese bread.” 

The pun, while subtle, is illustrative of the way in which the rest of sandwiches are named.  

The “Hell Is Chrome” sandwich offers patrons my favorite pun: a “devilled-egg salad with our very own sweet pickles chopped up and sprinkled throughout.” 

Within this painstakingly detailed menu, and even in the construction of the restaurant itself, Comfort successfully created a completely novel way to pay homage to his favorite band with more than pure fanaticism; he takes on fandom with individual style and wit. 

 For this I both applaud and curse him; while his work is genius, it puts mine to shame. 

For most of my readers, my love of Wilco is no secret. And while I will refrain from revealing the formula for my own ode to Wilco, I will admit that it is not nearly as phenomenal as Comfort’s. 

So, as I continue to brainstorm ways in which I can revamp my personal tribute, my challenge still stands: if you say you love a band, prove it —  and maybe toss some new ideas my way in the process.