ANALYZING "BLUE KRISHNA"

Decision postponed another two weeks on the interim city manager job. I probably should cease considering them a viable prospect. There are a couple of other jobs I should apply for, and I’m not going to put life on hold waiting for these guys. On the plus side, the stress of wondering whether I was about to run out of time next week should force me to be more efficient at using my time. I have not been efficient at all lately.

“Blue Krishna” is done, I think. The lyrics are getting vetted by the “wolves” at Just Plain Folks, and I’ll see if they have anything to add. Depending on what (if anything) they say, the song will get performed at the Rainbow Lotus Sunday night—dedicated to Michael and Sedona, who own the place. It was the painting in their store of a blue-skinned Krishna that prompted the song. (Actually, it prompted my question, “Why is Krishna blue?” which prompted the song. A line like that demands a song to go with it.) It was meant to be a sensitive treatment of His Smurfiness, and I hope it comes across that way.

A little analysis is in order, with tonight’s Writers’ Guild meeting in mind (we were supposed to do songs about the ocean, and I came out with this instead). Was it written deliberately? Yes and no: the “Why is Krishna blue?” idea was interesting, but I get handed a lot of interesting things, and just file them away. It was after I came up with a chorus—and a compelling, hard-to-get-out-of-the-head melody—that I realized I might have something worthwhile. At that point, I did try to stay focused on the melody, and every short trip in the truck (I do tend to do my writing while driving) added little pieces to the lyrics until it was (sorta) done.

The song does follow the thinking patterns I went through—finding the Krishna and being curious (1st verse), some of his not-so-special attributes (he stayed a kid, had a job, played the flute for cows—that’s all in the 2nd verse), the important point—he wrote a moral rulebook nobody paid attention to (3rd verse). Each of the verses ends on a sad note, echoing the “times have changed” idea in the chorus. Last verse, where our protagonist takes Krishna home (tying back to the discovery in the beginning), suggests why Kris should maybe still be considered important—and it’s the little things, of course. All told from a kid’s perspective, because kids are able to look at things with “fresh eyes” (and not be considered nuts in the process). A redneck kid, I guess, since the music is unabashedly a two-step.

I can usually tell where the music came from, and this one’s no exception: it’s robbed from the theme song for the “Cinderpiggy” puppet show, “My Happily Ever After”—tweaked slightly, so it doesn’t sound exactly the same. The “Cinderpiggy” song was a frank throwaway, anyway—I doubt anybody will remember it.

“Blue Krishna” even has a Message (which I didn’t expect), in that “Tell him that the world might change, but some things stay the same” line in the chorus (whose meaning changes slightly each time—I like doing that). Change is not good or bad, it just is. But there are always good parts, if you look for them. I’d hazard a lot of people won’t like the song, because it could be interpreted like advocacy of a non-Christian belief system. I’d disagree—but I also probably do not care. It’s done, and I kinda like it. Now I’m antsy to record it, but I’ll wait until after the song gets performed Sunday; if the audience (and especially Michael and Sedona) like it, it’s worth recording.

Setlists are done for both Deathgrass’ and 45 Degrees North’s performances at the Wheeler Summerfest (which is next Saturday). Both 90-minute sets have 19 songs each (in each case, there’s a couple of short songs). Posters are done; so are the Raps. Next step is the notices to the “joelist” and to Facebook. And practice. Must practice. I will apparently have time to do so. (See? There are always good parts.)

Joe