We recently had the chance to connect with Dallas Kruse and have shared our conversation below.
Dallas, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
I wake up with 130 pounds of Rottweiler leaning on my face. This is her idea of an alarm clock. We’re early risers. She licks me like a lawsuit waiting to happen and I try to explain boundaries, but she’s a dog, so HR isn’t involved.
I put on the walking pants — there are specific pants for this — and we head out. One or two miles if she feels like it. Catch in the park if she decides she wants to stretch her legs.
Then it’s off to the studio. Short drive. I spend most of it wiping drool off my chin. Not hers. Mine. Because every block is another donut shop. And if you want to understand addiction, it’s not the sugar — it’s the way the chocolate old fashioned makes promises it can’t keep.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Dallas Kruse. Although a perfect stripper’s name, I’ve yet to brandish the pole… at least not publicly. When I was in the womb, the doctors were so sure I’d be a girl that my parents hadn’t picked out boy names. The Cowboys were on TV in the recovery room and my dad had an epiphany. ‘I got it!’ he said. My mom replied, ‘We are not naming him Pigskin.’
I grew up in Orange County, CA, with two older brothers, immersed in sports, church, and theater. Church is where I first touched production, music, and performance — the breeding ground for my urge to create.
At 17, I fell for the piano. Armed with a boombox and cassette tapes, I plunked out songs by ear and learned my way around the keys. Fast forward: I’m now a studio owner and music producer. But with the music industry shifting to home recording, I’ve pivoted into composing for TV/film and creating original projects.
Right now, I’m pitching Behind the Glass, a docu-style comedy-drama about life inside a recording studio — rock stars, fragile egos, and one overworked producer trying to keep the doors open. It’s an honest, absurd look at celebrity culture and the people who actually know what happens when the red light goes on (and off).
I don’t really see myself as a ‘brand.’ That term turns me off. I dislike social media, even though it’s a necessary evil. I just like creating things, collaborating, and being part of cool projects with talented, funny people.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
I’m not a philosopher — I make music and try to create things that entertain or make people laugh. Everyone knows broken trust kills a bond. In my line of work, the lesson has been to separate business from personal — you don’t need to be friends with everyone to keep things professional.
What fear has held you back the most in your life?
Sharks.
Or imposter syndrome.
Probably sharks though.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What do you believe is true but cannot prove?
I believe music is being ruined by computers, loops, AI, and autotune. While unprovable, I think humans respond most deeply to actual instruments vibrating air in real time. It’s too easy now to drag a loop from Splice or prompt an AI and call it a song. Put an artist or producer in a room with nothing but instruments — could they create? If not, that says everything.
Live music will always hit harder. The more we replace it with compression algorithms and copy-paste loops, the less psychological impact it has. Maybe there’ll be a backlash where people crave real musicians again. At least I hope so. Because if not, we’re just dumbing ourselves down to 1-chord, loop-driven tracks with lyrics that feel childish at best. That’s not the music I believe in.
I’ve never been a fan of sampling. In visual art, you can’t just take a Monet, add two brushstrokes, sign your name, and call it yours. Yet in music, people lift entire chunks of someone else’s work, drop a beat under it, and get rich. Why is that celebrated in one medium but would be laughed out of the gallery in another?
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
Probably time I was called on stage in front of a few thousand people. I came charging from the floor, planted one heroic foot on the stage, and launched myself up like I was about to make rock history. Instead, what I made was the sound of the temple veil tearing in the New Testament — my pants split clean from belt loop to zipper in one biblical rip.
And of course, it was the one day I’d decided underwear was optional. Thousands of people, a spotlight, and me, suddenly starring in a Greek tragedy called Too Much Confidence, Not Enough Cotton.
If they don’t tell that one at my funeral, I hope that I’m remembered as loyal, giving, and kind and a good dog-dad.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.dallaskruse.com
- Instagram: @dallaskruse
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/dallas-kruse-b720a2a3/
- Twitter: @dallaskruse
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@DallasKruse
- Other: https://play.reelcrafter.com/dallaskruse/composerreel
