You'll see the word “tomboy" show up a lot on blogger and Instagrammer Logan Melissa's public accounts, in various forms (you’ll see “Sorry, mom” a lot, too, but that’s another story for another day). In addition to being an NBA follower and a fantasy football addict (though that playing field is being leveled as we speak), she’s a news junkie, a hip-hop geek and a little bit of a word nerd; a not-so-secret repository of trivia in a lithe blonde body.
She's most famous, however, for being one of the most prolific record collectors in Instagram's vinyl collecting circles—a pursuit that isn't explicitly boyish, but over time has become so (as a rough estimate of male interest, some record collecting magazines boast about a 95% male readership). The popular depiction of a record geek is a lot like The Simpsons' comic book guy, but skinny: communicating in cryptic pop-culture references, with hygiene that could be better and spewing disdain for almost every music type that's ever broken the top 100.
Logan, on the other hand, is confident, beautiful and freely shares her expansive knowledge of jazz, funk, hip-hop and the occasional folk classic with the Internet—no judgment in sight. She's also made a name for herself by staging quirky re-creations of covers in her collection, using whatever she’s got in her apartment.
Always a fan of proud women who know their shit, we caught up with her to talk (what else?) music.
Alright, let's talk records. What's your earliest vinyl memory?
Every vinyl nerd says this, but it’s just being in the living room with my parents playing their records on Sunday morning. I’d sit on the floor and flip through my parents’ records—except for In the Court of the Crimson King, which I did not like one bit. My parents were big music geeks and Deadheads so I was raised at concerts. I was just raised with music always around.
At what point did you realize your record collecting had gone past hobby and into obsession?
The first time I moved was a pretty serious wake-up call. My collection has grown slowly, over many years, so I didn’t really think about its volume. I never woke up one day with a HOLY SHIT realization. My family will tell you, however, that helping me move is one of the most unpleasant experiences they have ever survived— carrying/dragging/pushing crates and crates of records. I also get a reminder anytime I have a new guest over who isn’t a record nerd and he/she lets out a yelp of surprise (the record nerds who come over are never too shocked).
What's the weirdest/most unexpected place you've found a coveted record?
My uncle’s closet in his childhood bedroom at my grandma’s house—The Wailers’ Catch a Fire, with the Zippo cover. (Uncle Bill: You became immortal in my eyes that day! Love you!)
Your Instagram account has become famous for your real-life re-creations of the covers of albums in your collection. Are there any covers you want to re-create, but for some reason just physically cannot embody?
Ooh, great question. Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde would be pretty great, but I just don’t know how I could pull off that rollercoaster shot. I love Rahsaan Roland Kirk’s The Case of the 3 Sided Dream in Audio Color, but I don’t know how I’d turn my head into a bunch of intertwined brass instruments. I’m also a big fan of beautiful graphics: Miles Davis’ Miles in the Sky, for example, and all those Reid Miles Blue Note covers with sharp, clean typefaces (Hank Mobley’s The Turnaround!, Jackie McLean’s It’s Time!), but I just can’t figure out how to translate them into real-world re-creations.
Have you taken shit from people who feel your cover re-creations are too, uh, naked?
Why yes, I have! The ol’ “You post pictures of yourself in your bathing suit on the Internet THAT MEANS YOU DON’T LOVE YOURSELF” brigade often shows up in my comments section . . . and it's always dudes who feel the need to share their distaste, curiously enough. Along with the typical nerd-police BS I get in the form of comments questioning my existence as a real live human female who has a huge record collection and a brain full of knowledge about music, there’s a lot of concern trolling that goes on, which makes me feel unified with all other kinds of female dorks who are part of traditionally boys-only subcultures: comics, sci-fi, sports writing, pretty much anything tech-related.
I see it as just another form of nerd gatekeeping: “Women are allowed to look like _____ to participate in this community.” If we put too much effort into our appearance, we are called out and criticized as fake or attention-seeking; women who wear jeans and t-shirts are deemed acceptable because they have achieved the acceptable level of femininity—I want to know you’re a girl, but don’t give me too much of a boner. And at both ends of the spectrum, naked or not, we have to prove our credentials and pass the super hard Geek Entrance Exam in order to be deemed legitimate. It's so tiresome. I appreciate people’s concern about my occasional sexiness*, but a) I’m grown and b) YOU’RE OVERTHINKING IT. I just like to look pretty in my photos. My dad hugged me plenty when I was a kid, OK? Relax.
*J/K, no I don’t.
It's kind of an unspoken rule that vinyl collecting, and music geekery in general, is for boys only. You're sort of on your way to becoming a trailblazer for women in the hobby. Did you ever set out to do that, or did it just kind of organically happen?
It just happened. I was raised by a woman with a pretty mean record collection, and a man who was a feminist and didn’t treat women who are into records as a novelty. I’m a big NFL and NBA and Fantasy Football dork too, in the hopes of finding a husband. Fingers crossed!
Speaking of which, you're also not at all afraid to call out people who assume you're just a girlfriend posing with her dude's record collection, because, ya know, ladies can't possibly take a serious interest in music. What do you find is most effective in changing peoples' minds about who collects records?
Making fun of that whole sad, limited mindset, for sure . . . because the alternative for me would be just to sit and stew in my anger, which is the fucking worst. After the twentieth time I received a comment from an indignant vinyl bro who questioned my existence and was convinced I’m some dude’s girlfriend who poses with his records, I got out some of my anger out by making a fake Instagram account (@sexistdudesofinstagram). It’s so dumb but so entertaining, much like haters themselves.
I’m also a fan of using a little passive aggressiveness in responding to the comments, as well as correcting grammar (there’s nothing I love more than a “Your not a real collector” critique), but my personal favorite has to be the technique of killing 'em with kindness: “I’m sorry I make you sad and mad with the way I choose to present myself on the Internet, sir : (((((“. I read a lot online about nerd gatekeeping and the myth of the “fake geek” (i.e., people with vaginas who happen to love the same things that boys do), and one of the best pieces of advice I’ve read in terms of responding to ridiculous questions about my credentials is to just “patiently model appropriate behavior.” Basically, I just go about my business, posting pictures and trying to share some of my knowledge about the records in my collection, all the while having a vagina like it ain’t no thing. Record collecting isn’t a novelty to me; it’s just a thing I like. I figure if I keep presenting it that way, maybe I can encourage a few more people to see it that way.
What's your advice to women who want to get into record collecting but aren't sure where to start?
Just get out there! Go! I just got through with my diatribe against nerd gatekeeping, so I actually feel kind of weird giving advice about this, as if there’s a right or wrong way to do it. I had a head start in this stuff since I inherited a good-sized collection from my parents, so I have tons of respect for people who started out totally on their own. Some of the things I wish people had shared with me when I was getting really into it are that there’s a huge range of prices for vinyl, and some of it can get quite expensive, so you can’t go wrong starting out in the dollar bins. There’s plenty of time to get into original pressings and mono vs. stereo and blah blah. Who cares anyway, just buy what you like. Also: 1. The display wall at a shop is great for recommendations, 2. You can usually sell it back if you don’t like it, and 3. Act like you belong there, because YOU DO.
