A few weeks back, as I sat enjoying some end-of-week beers at my pub of choice, I was seated next to someone who didn’t look familiar.
Bespectacled and sporting a Rasputin-like beard, I noticed he was wearing a shirt that said, Your Friend Logan, the title of a documentary about local musical genius and legend, Logan Whitehurst, that was set to play the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma that very night.
Being the intrepid reporter that I am, I immediately deduced that perhaps the mystery man might be Conner Nyberg, director of the film, or Matlock Zumsteg, the producer. I knew these names because I had done a recent deep dive into the film to see what it was all about and also, because I knew very little about Whitehurst, aside from tales of his eccentric talents and general joie de vivre.
So, I simply asked the guy if he was involved with the film, and his answer really helps explain just how wonderful and amazing Whitehurst was as a musician and human being.
This guy, Blake, was not involved with the film, aside from helping it get made via crowdfunding. Rather, he had driven 400 miles to see the premiere of Your Friend Logan because he was not only a huge fan, but he also met Whitehurst online in the nascent days of the internet. Blake wanted to be there to celebrate the musical artist who meant so much to so many in a short time, and that was a pretty special thing to do.
And, Your Friend Logan is a pretty special film. Told in straightforward documentary fashion with some killer animation to keep things vibrant, the story starts in Los Banos, 1977. Whitehurst was the first among several brothers and sisters, who, according to his parents, was always quirky. Lifelong friends nostalgically recount his youthful creativity. He demonstrated a talent for drawing and later filmmaking on VHS equipment. It wasn’t long before he stumbled upon his stepbrother’s garage band rehearsing, and he started beating on a bucket and keeping good time.
Soon, the budding creative found his way to Sonoma State University, where he majored in printmaking. It’s here we might pause to reflect on how whatever it is that makes this universe put a person in a perfect place at the perfect time to find their true home and passions is pretty cool.
In 1995, Whitehurst met “geek-rock” duo Little Tin Frog, whose adoration of the band They Might Be Giants he shared. Needing a drummer, the duo had posted a flyer, this one coded with the title to a TMBG song. Whitehurst caught onto it, ripped the flyer down and immediately called the band, auditioning and landing the drummer role. The band gained local popularity in the ’90s, and the film details all of it, reminding Sonoma County music fans of a music scene and venues long since gone.
Another key moment in the Whitehurst story is the discovery and near immediate mastery of a four-track recorder which allowed him to singlehandedly incorporate his musical talents, which included keyboard along with drums, goofy jokes, silly songs and general nonsense. It was DIY music that, when it’s heard today, seems to fit right in with the more fun and edgy animated music videos tailor-made for Adult Swim or TikTok consumption. Doing it all himself, he now had two burgeoning creative outlets.
Since we’re speaking of the DIY local So-Co music scene, it’s obvious that the Phoenix Theater should come into play, which it does. Whitehurst started the band The Velvet Teen with budding local talent Judah Nagler (guitar/vocals) and fellow Sonoma County musician Josh Staples (bass). Before long, it became evident they could become The Next Big Thing on a local level. They cut their teeth and honed their craft at the Phoenix before launching several long U.S. tours where the threesome bonded over long drives with Whitehurst at the wheel.
As one has likely noticed, we’re also speaking of Logan Whitehurst in past-tense, and that, for lack of a better term, totally sucks. Since the film is told in chronological fashion, when it nears the end, an inspiring, exciting story dives headlong into crushing, confusing sadness and eventually, loss. Whitehurst died from brain cancer in 2006 at age 29.
While the film does allow for those affected by his loss to share stories and cry about his untimely loss, it’s ultimately a celebration of his life, talent and career, that last part probably something he might cringe at. Bringing the film to Petaluma at the Phoenix was also a thrilling closure of sorts for Nyberg and Zumsteg.
Close to 300 people came out for the screening, and Nyberg was ecstatic. “Having the premiere at the Phoenix was an incredible experience. It really felt like a proper homecoming for Logan’s music and legacy to be put on full display, and I couldn’t think of a more perfect audience to share Logan’s story with,” he said. “Though the last six years of making this film has had its shares of trials and tribulations, this premiere truly made it all worthwhile, and reminded me of just how powerful sharing the gift of creativity can be.”
Zumsteg agreed, saying, “Being held at the Phoenix, it was a very supportive and familiar environment for most of Logan’s family and friends, some of whom had traveled hundreds of miles across the U.S. and hadn’t seen one another face-to-face since his memorial in that very same building in 2007.”
He added, “I only hope it was a cathartic and healing experience for the friends and family of Logan’s that attended, and that it helped to soothe and provide comfort to an old wound, rather than merely reopen and expose it.”
Your Friend Logan is also the kind of film that is not only moving; it will make one not only want to tell people to watch it, but also to follow up several times to make sure they did. Maybe they will even leave a silly sing-song voice message or a little doodled note when they do.
Find out more about the film and stream it via yourfriendlogan.com. DVDs, Blu-rays and, yes, VHS copies are available at record stores, including Petaluma’s Rain Dog Records and The Next Record Store in Santa Rosa.












Logan was a roommate of mine when I was fresh out of high school. He was a kind-hearted and very fun person who was so fully immersed in his creative world. I remember him sculpting Skeksis just because, and offering his life-size cardboard Captain Jean-Luc Picard as our Christmas tree.
This story made me weep, not just because of how his untimely death affected those who knew him, but for those who didn’t get the opportunity to, too. He was wonderful.
I often taled with him about the Dark Crustal sequel/reboot that was rumored for years. I couldn’t help thinking of him when The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance Netflix series came out. I think it was better than both of us could have hoped, and I know he would have loved it. A lot of his friends told us that He would have loved Adventure Time, and a ton of sillier animated media available to us today. <#
Pardon the typos. I am a human. I just need a manicure, and to look up from my keyboard from time to time before I hit publish on public comment threads.