In the fall of 2007, Kimbrell returned from a stay in South America while part of the Peace Corps. She was there for two years, mostly in Paraguay - and while there, she discovered her voice as a musician. Kimbrell had always tinkered around with music, but nights in Paraguay over a two-year period passed slowly. Fortunately, she had packed her guitar. Kimbrell essentially taught herself to play guitar and after an accidental duet with a guy and his guitar from the Corps, she discovered she didn't have such a bad voice. "He was singing ‘Fast Car' by Tracy Chapman and he sang for shit," she laughed. "So I jumped in and after, he told me I should start looking into doing that more. Later on, as I got better, I got to play in Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay, of course." Kimbrell had somehow made the unique career move of becoming an international musician before becoming a local one. With a newfound confidence, she jumped into the music scene when she returned to Dallas. She booked solid shows, bringing her brand of rock and blues to the scene, and she went at her shows unabashedly. "I had the guts to get onstage and I just didn't care," she said. "I had developed a lot since coming back and my voice, literally and as lesbian, is stronger. I don't have anything to hide."
Paraguay RPCV SuZanne Kimbrell carves her own path while proving to Dallas that gay people can rock just as hard as anyone else
COVER STORY: Let the music play
Posted on 12 May 2011 at 8:20pm
Local musician SuZanne Kimbrell carves her own path while proving to Dallas that gay people can rock just as hard as anyone else
RICH LOPEZ | Staff Writer
lopez@dallasvoice.com
One Wednesday night in November, an idea came to fruition - one based on the hope that Dallas' gay music scene can change.
SuZanne Kimbrell believes that the LGBT community in Dallas hasn't embraced its own out musical artists enough.
The thing is - she may be right.
Kimbrell's bi-monthly music event, Twist Dallas, has been getting praises by some in the gay community for offering an alternative to the Cedar Springs Strip for a night out. But for Kimbrell, it's also a different way to approach gay Pride.
"I think that's what Pride is a lot about - not only just being gay, but the diversity of what that means," she said.
By day, Kimbrell works at a coffee shop part-time and teaches music. By night, she's on the hustle as most struggling musicians are.
But she hustles for two things: her own musical career, which is making some strides, and Twist Dallas, which features a roster of LGBT and gay friendly local musicians.
The inaugural Twist happened that crisp November night in East Dallas when Kimbrell filled the Lakewood Bar and Grill with an ambitious lineup of seven musicians and bands, along with a visual artist for good measure.
And the place was packed.
"We have a great pool of gay and lesbian musicians in Dallas [who are] not being heard," Kimbrell said. "It's not the gayborhood's fault, but I think it's the lack of communication."
Getting started
That first night, in the middle of the week, the show began at an early 7:30 p.m. but lasted well past 1 a.m. At the midpoint, the bar was packed, mostly with women, but Kimbrell's vision had been realized.
She built it, and the gays came out.
Seven months later, Kimbrell is staging her fourth show and all is going according to plan.
"Getting anybody to any show can be hard, but the word is getting out," she said. "We've had more people come each show, and I think that each show has been subsequently more successful than the last."
But there has been frustration along the way.
With Twist Dallas, Kimbrell's intention was to create a platform for local LGBT musicians to perform and be showcased. She didn't see that much anywhere else.
Kimbrell had a regular stint at Jack's Backyard and performed at an open mic at Sue Ellen's, but found it difficult to break into her own gay district where established locals consistently performed. So she did something about it.
"It's been hard to play on Cedar Springs. Dallas has shown a platform for queer musicians, but it's only one window to look through on this big ship of music," Kimbrell said with building intensity. "On this ship, we have a 100 different windows to look through. All we want is for people to come look here and see the amazing talent."
In the three shows under her belt, Kimbrell has featured local gay musicians that play folk, rock, R&B and hip-hop. She added local poet Audacious to her second bill, adding the element of spoken word.
Kimbrell isn't hung up on the type of performance. She just wants to put it out there.
Infidelix, aka Bryan Rodecker, a hip-hop artist from Denton, finished off the first Twist event with some major upswing, even as the crowd dwindled into the late weeknight.
"Playing that night was amazing," he said. "The coolest part was that it wasn't at a gay bar. Usually we get segregated just to playing our clubs, but this brings us out to [non-gay] venues and that's wonderful.
"The different styles brought many of us together," Rodecker continued. "In that one night, I made lifelong artist friends. I can't wait to play another one."
Finding her voice
In the fall of 2007, Kimbrell returned from a stay in South America while part of the Peace Corps. She was there for two years, mostly in Paraguay - and while there, she discovered her voice as a musician.
Kimbrell had always tinkered around with music, but nights in Paraguay over a two-year period passed slowly. Fortunately, she had packed her guitar.
Kimbrell essentially taught herself to play guitar and after an accidental duet with a guy and his guitar from the Corps, she discovered she didn't have such a bad voice.
"He was singing ‘Fast Car' by Tracy Chapman and he sang for shit," she laughed. "So I jumped in and after, he told me I should start looking into doing that more. Later on, as I got better, I got to play in Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay, of course."
Kimbrell had somehow made the unique career move of becoming an international musician before becoming a local one.
With a newfound confidence, she jumped into the music scene when she returned to Dallas. She booked solid shows, bringing her brand of rock and blues to the scene, and she went at her shows unabashedly.
"I had the guts to get onstage and I just didn't care," she said. "I had developed a lot since coming back and my voice, literally and as lesbian, is stronger. I don't have anything to hide."
Keeping up momentum
With her fourth show looming, Kimbrell also has to keep up on her own career and it's not an enviable position to be in. She was just approved by Kickstarter.com to get help with funding her goals for a full-length album (the site is a fundraising tool where people and companies can sponsor and donate funds to artistic projects).
Her goal is to raise enough funds to pay for studio costs, marketing and publishing in time to start recording in August this year. Although she's excited about this part of her "business" plan, she knows she's got a hard job ahead of her.
"The music industry is a bitch," Kimbrell said. "You have to be tenacious and always on the bit, the phone, networking everyday; you need to be hustling. If you miss it, you're done."
This doesn't sway her. While she may not have time to be overly excited about this latest development, it's not lost on her.
"It's so nice Kickstarter has given me a chance and I can see the $6,500 goal and the deadline and the people supporting me," she said.
But there are other things are on her mind, too, like getting this edition of Twist Dallas finalized.
Since the first show, tweaks had to be made in order for it to push forward. For instance, the event has moved to a Thursday, which may bring more people in to the show.
Another tweak was actually the result of her getting flak by both gay and straight fans.
"I used to want it to be totally gay, but a big change is adding straight people to the lineup," Kimbrell said. "People told me to bring in all of the community and they were right.
"I wanted a platform solely for gays, but I realized that first, there are not as many out musicians and that we need to be inclusive. We'll never evolve if we are exclusive."
The struggle showed on her face as she went through the behind-the-scenes details, but her spirit still had the spark. For her, Twist Dallas is worth it.
Besides, it's her baby.
"People say that it's fun and are glad it's here and that it's needed," Kimbrell said. "They say they love Oak Lawn but that it's nice getting out of there to see other musicians, artists, or hear poetry by people they might not have heard of."
Looking to the future
Kimbrell expressed an inner conflict though. When asked if she would ever bring Twist to Oak Lawn, she wasn't sure.
She said she has wrestled with the idea. While a stage at Pride is her ideal situation for Twist, the conflict comes from a sort of apathy or complacency Dallas' gay community seems to have regarding live, original music.
Why is that?
"I think there's a comfort there and that makes it hard to get into some of the venues," she said. "The community and the powers that be get comfortable. I don't think they're trusting but the community is educated. Why not educate them some more with different options?
"We need to keep looking to the future while remembering the past, but unless that changes, we're gonna be stuck," she said.
Ultimately, Kimbrell said she would like a Twist show in Oak Lawn, being that it is the heart of the gay population. She'd also like to see it bounce around venues, much like the way Chick Happy Hour and Guerrilla Gay Bar do, taking the gays out of the box.
"The reason its called Twist is to shake things up," Kimbrell said. "We wanna be seen, but also mix more with other parts and people of Dallas. And yes, I'd love Twist in Oak Lawn if people want it. I think Sue's or the Rose Room would be great spots for it."
Kimbrell is all about versatility. She learned quickly that Twist doesn't need to be rigid - it couldn't survive that way.
She just wants to get music out there and get exposure for what Dallas - and even beyond - has to offer in work by queer musicians, wherever that happens.
"I think it's important to not always go to the same part of town. Wouldn't you like to go to Lakewood or Deep Ellum or anywhere else and know you can go into the club because we made a presence there and they're used to gay people there?
"We're here, we're queer get used to us. Isn't that the slogan? Now hear our music and look at our art."
