From Rock 'n' Roll to Early Rhythms

The journey into the heart of kirtan began with a brief transformative taste. For Gopati Dasa and Uttamasloka Dasa, as well as an entire generation of early devotees, Srila Prabhupada offered momentary glimpses into a higher spiritual reality—fleeting experiences that spawned a relentless desire to understand more and go deeper into the practice of congregational chanting.

Before joining ISKCON, Uttamasloka was a musician playing in a popular rock band in Hamilton, Ontario. When he helped establish a new temple in Hamilton, the group’s musical setup was bare: all they possessed was a single pair of kartals. Early kirtans, led by Dharmaraja, were erratic and unpredictable—fluctuating wildly between fast and slow tempos and jumping frantically between melodies. For a trained musician, the lack of structure pushed Uttamasloka's patience to new limits. Uttamasloka played acoustic guitar and led Sunday Feast kirtans a few times.

Relief arrived six months later when the Hamilton temple merged into the Toronto temple under the leadership of Jagadish. Kirtans became more regulated, though the drumming remained primitive by Indian standards. Early Western mridanga players relied on basic rhythm patterns like "teoah tanaka te didya didya de," which inevitably devolved into chaotic polka-style "oom-pa" beats during energetic peaks—a style Uttamasloka humorously likened to Ricky Ricardo’s "Babalu".

The turning point came when cassette tapes recorded by Acyutananda Swami arrived from India. Introducing authentic Bengali rhythms, these recordings offered Western devotees their first glimpse of traditional mridanga techniques and inspired them to develop a far more sophisticated percussive approach.

Seeking the Source in India

Devotees did not travel to India as ordinary tourists seeking architectural sights; they arrived with an explorer's mentality nurtured by Srila Prabhupada's teachings, eagerly searching for the Vaishnava traditions he had described. Whether rolling in the sacred dust of Vrindavan or seeking out traditional artisans, their encounters were guided by a desire to incorporate authentic practices into devotional service.

In 1973, “Achyutananda’s tapes came, and we thought, “Oh, this is different. This is funky with unique grooves.” Achyutananda imbibed certain aspects of Bengali mridanga playing and I learned a few things from the tapes, but I couldn’t develop a whole style from it.”

“Manibandha had been in India and he showed me that boom ba, ba boom, ba. I’m not saying the bols correctly, but you know the beat I mean—the one that I used all the time, just that beginning beat, a nice slow cadence. So I learned that. That became my, “Let’s get going, let’s walk together and we’ll build it up as we go along.”

In 1974, I made that first recording of Krishna dasa Babaji at Sridhara Swami’s ashram. That was when my heart exploded and my head exploded. I heard him play and it blew my mind, and that ‘breakout beat’ (that’s what I called it) that he did. I became obsessed with perfecting that breakout beat because of where it took the kirtan when you break out like that. It was unprecedented from a musical arrangement perspective.

So I had to learn that, and it’s a little tricky. Simple but a little tricky to get it just right. And that was a complete change in terms of how I arranged a kirtan. I came back to Canada with that tape recording. I tried to learn his beats and assimilate his style. He had one really simple beat, boom...tink tink tink...boom. The most simple beat you could imagine.

I actually have a recording of me playing that beat with Prabhupada singing Jaya Radha Madhava in Toronto before Srimad-bhagavatam class. I thought, “He’ll recognize this as Krishna dasa Babaji’s beat and he’ll think, ‘Oh, my disciple’s cool.’” But when I listen to the recording, I kind of pulled it off but not quite, so I feel a little embarrassed. And then I did the breakout beat and I thought, “I hope Srila Prabhupada wasn’t disturbed, thinking I was trying to show off or something,” because I wasn’t. I was trying to say, “Look at who I listened to and picked up on.” It was a little private communication.”

In 1975, Dinanatha kirtans became very influential.  Especially with the widely-shared recording of the Sandhya Arati from the 1975 Mayapur Festival.  Another impromptu recording with a significant impact was the Broken Down Bus Kirtan that happened when a bus transporting devotees from the Calcutta airport to Sridama Mayapur broke down and local villagers came and joined the kirtans. 

Uttamasloka dasa (ACBSP) recalls:

“It was 1975, the second year of the festival. We were hopeful things would be better than the austerities of the first big festival. The plane landed in Calcutta, and they’ve got five or six buses waiting to take us to Mayapur. So there’s a caravan of buses going to Mayapur and we’re at the point where we’re going through these little villages, maybe an hour or two away from Mayapur, and our bus gets a flat tire. All the buses stopped, they fixed the flat tire, and we’re ready to go.

We’re in the last bus now and we start following the other buses. But within minutes we got another flat tire and now there’s no spare tire because all the other buses kept going - they didn’t notice that we weren’t behind them. So we were stuck there in a small village in rural Bengal. Should we drink the water? What are we supposed to do, dehydrate or is the water OK? We were just sitting there for hours with nothing to do, just people chanting japa, talking and resting.

After a couple of hours, it was five or six o’clock, so farmers were coming in from the fields and they saw all these western people dressed like Vaisnavas. Then one guy came with a mridanga, He started chanting, “Hare Krishna...” and another guy came with karatals. Within minutes we had a kirtan going, and it got very ecstatic.

Then I took over and led a portion of the kirtan, and just when the kirtan crescendoed, the buses came back to rescue us. The timing was perfect, and it was just getting dark. So we finally got into Mayapur late at night when all the mosquitoes were waiting for a midnight snack."

In 1976, kirtan was evolving in ISKCON. Devotees were embracing tradition Bengali styles and had an almost insatiable thirst to learn. Srila Prabhupada liked Nitaichand’s mrdanga playing and would have him accompany his Jaya Radha Madava kirtan invocations before each Srimad Bhagavatam class.  We began searching.

Uttamasloka describes the Krishna Dasa Babaji sessions:

It was 1976, during the annual Mayapur Festival. The setting was a small room along "mosquito alley" near the main gate of the Mayapur Chandrodaya Mandir. What happened inside that room over the course of few hours would be captured on a borrowed tape recorder, preserving one of the most moving and unique kirtans: Akincana Krishna Dasa Babaji Maharaj singing Sri Guru Carana Padma.

Visvakarma and I were in Prabhupada’s room for evening darshan, with 50 or more devotees present. When I saw who was sitting next to Prabhupada, I realized it was Krishna dasa Babaji! They were having a grand old time laughing and talking while Srila Prabhupada was answering questions.

Visvakarma was there to present something to Srila Prabhupada in conjunction with the Toronto temple, but before he did, Krsna Dasa Babaji and his friend left the darshan. So I left too and stopped him in the hall outside the room. I literally begged him to come to my room to chant and record for a bit.

However, his friend was reluctant, but my persistence paid off. So we went down to mosquito alley to my room, and I was shocked to discover that somebody had borrowed my tape recorder without asking. So I panicked momentarily - 'No!!!' I went scrambling to other rooms asking everyone if they had a tape recorder I could borrow. Finally I got one.

I asked Krsna Dasa Babaji what song he wanted to sing and he said, “Sri Guru Carana Padma, kevala bhakti sadma. First he chanted some mantras with spell binding melodies - he really was a refined singer who knew how to express musical nuances very tastefully. When I returned to the USA, I memorized those mantras phonetically because I didn’t know where to find them written down. I found them many years later and finally corrected my mistakes. So I sang those mantras just like he did before Guru Puja every day. A few other devotees who got copies of that tape and our Chicago version started doing that as well.

I also wanted to record some mridanga beats so I could learn them but I didn’t know the beats were called ‘bols’. I mistakenly thought they were called khol (mridanga) mantras. So I kept asking him to play some khol mantras so I could record them. Of course he must have thought I was nuts asking him for mantras about mridangas! So he laughed (which he did all the time) and just chanted some other mantras. Then I sang the Hare Krsna melody he sang in 1974 at B.R. Sridhara Maharaja’s ashram and I asked him to lead a kirtan with that melody, and so he did. Then they left.

We captured some wonderful recordings on that first evening, so before he left I pleaded for one more session. We agreed to meet two days later at six o’clock by the main gate. He arrived precisely at 6 pm (he wasn’t wearing a watch) and we went to my room where several other devotees were waiting and the tape recorder was ready to record.

He tweaked the mridanga a bit and then chanted a mantra, then started a kirtan with, “Govinda Hari, Gopala Hari”. After a few rounds of those Names he sang, “śrita-kamalā-kuca-maṇḍala dhṛta-kuṇḍala e.” In between each verse of Srita Kamala he would break out into a little mini-kirtan with the same refrain, “Govinda Hari, Gopala Hari”.

The first few kirtans were conservative, only building up a little to build our anticipation gradually. He didn’t do the breakout beat. But when he finally did the breakout beat after the 3rd or 4th verse, the ecstasy we felt in the room jumps off the tape and knocks you over. It is palpable. Every kirtan between the verses after that was increasingly intense and we were all in ecstasy. Thank goodness we didn’t have any karatals because it would have spoiled the recording, being in such a small room.

Uttamasloka tells the Nocturnal Kirtan story:

It was the end of the Mayapura segment of the 1976 annual festival and many devotees were sent to South India for a short pandal program before the Vrndavana segment of the festivities. I stayed in Mayapura with a few dozen devotees. One day, Amsu, the president of Ottawa temple, asked me if I wanted to go with to Navadvipa to the Brass Walla so he could finish some business. Sure, why not?

We crossed the river and arrived at the shop and he took care of his business. The shop owner then asked if we wanted to see the brass Gaura Nitai Deities he was making for the Ann Arbor temple. We agreed and went to his workshop and saw the Deities.

Walking back through a labyrinth of narrow alleys and streets, I overheard a kirtan coming from a three-story courtyard house we were passing. I asked the shop owner if he knew the people in that house and he said yes, so I asked if we could go inside and watch the kirtan and he nodded yes in that typical Indian head motion. We went inside and walked up 3 floors where the kirtan was taking place.

As soon as we walked through the door, we were greeted respectfully with flower garlands and sandalwood paste on our foreheads. Then they motioned for us to sit down against the wall of the wide hallway and within a minute, three banana leaf plates were put on the floor in front of us. Then, a Brahmin cook came back and forth from the kitchen with one pot after the other, and within minutes a lavish multi-course feast was assembled on those plates. While we took prasadam, the kirtan group performed their kirtan in front of us in the hallway.

We finished prasadam and I asked if they were going to chant into the evening and if I could come back to record them. They said yes, so we went back to Mayapura and I returned alone at dusk with a tape recorder and started recording.

The intricate drumbeats and nuances I recorded that night heavily influenced and shaped my mridanga playing and kirtan style, and it introduced melodies that eventually spread across ISKCON temples worldwide - and they are still chanted today. The widely-distributed recording was known as Navadvipa Nocturnal Kirtan.

The Unforgettable 1977 Kirtan Competition

The one and only 1977 Mayapur Kirtan Competition was a seminal moment in ISKCON’s history, bringing together international devotees and traditional Bengali kirtan parties on a single stage. Held under the sweltering heat of Mayapur, the event required participating parties to pour their hearts into intense, hour-long live performances.

International & Regional Performers

The competition featured a dynamic mix of global ISKCON centers and deeply rooted local kirtan traditions:

International ISKCON Groups: Represented by teams such as the Chicago Temple coalition, the combined LA/San Francisco Temple team, the Nama Hatta Group, and the young chanters of the Mayapur Chandrodaya Gurukula.

Bengali Kirtan Groups: Traditional local and regional groups brought authentic regional flavor, including the Amghat Harinam Sankirtan Dal, Sridharas Kirtan Group, Gopal Bhai Bhai Kirtan Group, Anand Sarana Group, Sri Krsna Sampradaya, and the Gour Nitai Sampradaya.

Musical Impact & Legacy

The event served as a major cultural exchange. Devotees gained immense insight into traditional Bengali kirtan style, rhythm, and vocal technique—knowledge that was subsequently integrated into temple kirtans worldwide.

Much of this historical gathering was preserved thanks to the audio recordings made on-site in 1977 by Gopati dasa. These recordings captured not only the high-energy Hare Krishna kirtans under the Mayapur pandal but also provided a lasting resource that shaped the sound and spirit of ISKCON kirtan for generations to come.

Recording by Gopati dasa (ACBSP)

Equipment: Nakamichi 550 Portable Recording Studio

Remastered in 2026 by Uttamasloka Dasa (ACBSP)

Recordings From the Competition

Amghata Harinam Sankirtan Dal

Sri Krsna Sampradaya Kirtan Group (Rhythm of Tradition Kirtan Series)

Sridharas Kirtan Goup

Ananda Sampradaya Kirtan Group

Gopal Bhai Bhai Sampradaya Kirtan Group

Gaura Nitai Sampradaya Kirtan Group

Stories From Participants

Uttamasloka Dasa (ACBSP)

In the spring of 1977, devotees gathered at the Mayapur pandal for a historic kirtan competition. To represent their devotional spirit, smaller centers formed combined teams—including a notable coalition uniting devotees from Montreal, Toronto, and Chicago under the banner of Chicago Kirtan Group. There was also a separate contest for local Bengali kirtan groups.

Leading up to the competition

The days leading up to the main competition were filled with high energy throughout the Mayapur campus:

Uttamasloka:

“At the first Mangala-arati of the festival, a sannyasi sang the Raja Bhoga song: “Bhaja bhakata-vatsala sri-gaurahari...” Everyone was looking at each other wondering why he was singing that song at this time. And the kirtan after was not inspiring. Srila Prabhupada also heard it from his room upstairs and afterwards he said, “Why are they chanting that song? Don’t do that.” He chastised them, and after, Acyutananda swami made an announcement to that effect the next morning.

The second Mangala Arati wasn’t very enlivening either, even though the correct prayers were chanted. After the morning program, many devotees approached me and everyone asked me to lead the next Mangala Arati. They were very insistent. I said I would gladly do it if they asked me, but I wasn’t going to force it.

Well, the next morning I walked into the temple room before Mangala Arati and Praghosa was waiting for me. He grabbed my arm and said, “You’re leading the kirtan.” He led me to a circle of devotees near the front who had their arms locked with each other to form an enclosed barrier.  Many of them had karatals too.

When they saw me, the circle opened and I walked in, and there was the mic stand and mrdanga waiting for me to lead the kirtan. So I lead the kirtan just like we did in Chicago every morning and there were enough devotees from Chicago and Toronto to back me up with the arrangement. The kirtan started moderately and soon took off for the first crescendo, and when it came back down to a moderate tempo, the mic went dead. The lights were still on so it wasn’t a typical power failure. It was sabotage.

A few devotees ran to the PA setup and got it working quickly. The kirtan never stopped either so there was no break in the energy, just no voice over the speakers for a bit. We carried on and it happened again shortly after. So it was fixed again and that didn’t stop the kirtan either. It turned out to be a fantastic kirtan and everyone was ecstatic. It was the first big kirtan of the festival. Many devotees approached me later to say how wonderful it was and they wanted me to lead more kirtans.

We found out that the culprit was a certain swami, i.e., he had one of his henchmen do it, and when I found out which one, I ‘gave him the sauce’, as we used to say back then. We’re in the Holy Dhama during Gaura Purnima and he tried to thwart a kirtan in front of the Deities and while Srila Prabhupada was there? I made sure he understood the severity of his offense.

Interestingly, that swami’s group was one of our main competitors, but they dropped out before the finals. And after the Mayapura segment of the festival, I went to Delhi to shop for the Chicago temple. While at the local Delhi temple visiting the temple president, I noticed a devotee in the fetal position on the floor in the far corner of the office. He was clearly suffering. I asked who it was, and the temple president told me it was the same swami who had his man pull the plug. He had malaria.

Well, well, well.”

The Competition

Uttamasloka:

“For our kirtan, we had freshly shaved heads, tilak stamps with the Holy Names, perfect tilak, brand new dhotis, chadars, and we had the zig-zag front on our dhotis - the Bengali style. We had a nice V formation with me in the middle leading, and we did a really nice kirtan. But the challenge was you had to chant for an hour nonstop in 100-degree weather in the afternoon. It was under a tent so that helped a bit.”

Previously, I encountered a Bengali devotee whom I had met before and he told me, “I lived with Krishna dasa Babaji for six months.” Then he related several amazing stories about how he never saw him sleep or eat, and so on - always chanting. We made a nice connection talking about that because he knew that I had also met and recorded Krishna dasa Babaji in previous years.

So after our first kirtan, I saw him and he said, “Uttamasloka, I was out in the field when your kirtan was going on. I was doing some work at the goshala and I thought, ‘Oh, one of the Bengali groups is chanting and they sound wonderful! I have to go hear them!’” He said, “I ran to the stage and to my surprise it was you and your group!”

I said, “That is our reward, that is our prize. A Bengali who associated with Krishna dasa Babaji thought we were one of the Bengali groups.” That was a valuable prize for me. That says we did it. So I hugged him. I said, “Thank you. That means more to me than anything.”

A Blessing from Srila Prabhupada

Discouraged by pushback from some devotees. Uttamasloka questioned whether to still be involved in the competition and whether this event was fostering the true spirit of kirtan:

Uttamasloka:

“A few devotees from other temples started giving our kirtan group members a hard time - being critical. We didn’t sound like any of the other kirtan groups and there was clearly some envy aroused. At one point, Tamal Krishna approached me...

Tamal: “Well Uttama, your group is in the semi-finals. Looks like you might win.”

Uttamasloka: “No, we’re not going to win.”

Tamal: “Why not?”

Uttamasloka: “Because we're not going to do it.”

Tamal: “What do you mean you’re not going to do it?”

Uttamasloka: “We're dropping out.”

Tamal: “Why?”

Uttamasloka: “Nobody appreciates what we’re doing, some are critical, and someone even tried to thwart my kirtan that morning. They do not understand the real mood of kirtan, so why should we even bother?”

Tamal: “Well, Prabhupada appreciates it.”

Uttamasloka: “How do you know?”

Tamal: “We were sitting in the room with Prabhupada. As you know, he hasn’t been feeling very well and he was just sitting there with his head down on his raised knee. Then your kirtan group came on and when it started to build up, he started tapping his hand on his knee in the rhythm.

And then when it crescendoed, he looked up and he said, ‘Just see, this is ecstasy. This is real ecstasy.’ He didn’t say a word about any other kirtan groups. We were just waiting for him to talk, but that’s all he said. So Prabhupada appreciated your kirtan.”

Uttamasloka: “Are you kidding with me?”

Tamal: “I’m telling you the truth, I swear.”

Was he? I don’t know. But, I accepted it. So I said, “OK, we’ll stay in the competition.”

The Final Awards

Uttamasloka:

“There were two prizes—Best Kirtan Leader and Best Kirtan Group. I wanted the Best Kirtan Group because that’s how we were presenting ourselves - as a group. It wasn’t about me and my backup group - it was all of us. So I wanted that prize for us.

The biggest competition was Agnideva and the L.A. devotees. He has a more mellifluous voice than me. He’s a crooner with a smooth voice. I thought, “He deserves the Best Kirtan leader. I’m just a solid singer, but he’s got the voice.” But it turned out that they gave me the Best Kirtan Leader, and they gave them the Best Kirtan Group. Oh well.”

Link to Chicago kirtan similar to the one performed in Mayapur

The first and last ISKCON Kirtan Competition

From “Festivals” by Lokanatha Swami

Two days before the 1977 Gaura Purnima, Jayapataka Maharaja staged the nama kirtana competition, which turned out to be the first and last of its kind. On the main stage, a day of elimination contests were held, and the next day was the grand finale. Kirtana groups from all over Bengal came to exhibit their talents — singing, dancing, and playing instruments.

Particularly attractive were the special mrdangas beats the native Bengalis knew how to play. Jayadvaita Swami recalls seeing the kirtana leaders from America hanging around near the stage, picking up on the mrdangas beats that the Bengalis were doing, hoping to take their styles back to the West.

Devotees also formed their own kirtana contingents. The different temples took part, including our bullock-cart traveling sankirtana party. Some kirtana parties took the competition very seriously and spent many days practicing mrdanga beats and choreographed dance steps. Others were spontaneous and did not rehearse.

Guru-krpa’s Nama-hatta party was the most enthusiastic and did the wildest dancing. His men danced with all their strength and passion.

Uttamasloka Dasa, the temple president from Chicago, had a polished routine, perfected through hours of practice. His group was favored to win the contest. In the bullock-cart kirtana party, I was the kirtana leader, and Abhayasraya played the mrdanga. Ravi, Atma-tattva, Krsna-nama, and others played kartalas and danced.

The kirtana competition went on all day, for two days. Each group performed for about half an hour, trying to put on the best show. The local Bengali singers were smartly dressed, with bright yellow and blue sashes, and they played great mrdangas beats and even cried and howled during their kirtanas.

Perhaps they thought they could easily win by displaying such symptoms. So they put on a whole show, embracing each other in feigned separation from the Lord and rolling on the ground. The Bengalis sang in high-pitched voices, and the devotees responded until their throats were hoarse.

All this was being amplified through the Indian sound system. Unfortunately, the speakers were directed toward the Lotus Building, where Prabhupada was staying, and Prabhupada became disturbed by the excessive noise. He eventually asked what was happening, and the devotees told him in detail about the competition.

He reacted unfavorably: “This is not nama-sankirtana. It is nama-aparadha. They are simply singing for money.”

So the competition was stopped, and Jayapataka Maharaja decided not to hold any more kirtana competitions. The Los Angeles party of Agnideva, Puspadanta, and Ramadasa Abhirama won the competition for the best group. Uttamasloka dasa won the best kirtan leader prize.

Uttamasloka describes meetings and bhajans with Krishna Das Babaji 

on Gaura Purnima eve of 1977:

It was the biggest annual Mayapura festival and there were hundreds of thousands of pilgrim devotees in Mayapura for the general festivities. There was a big outdoor play on our land, and Prabhupada was sitting on a big dais watching the play, and Krsna Dasa Babaji was sitting next to him on the big Vyasasana.

After the play, Krishna dasa left, but I followed him. This was two days before Gaura Purnima, so the crowds were shoulder to shoulder thick. I worked my way through the crowd and finally caught up to him and I said, “Maharaja, Maharaja, it’s me.” He expressed surprise and he seemed to recognize me. I said, “Can we go chant somewhere?” He tapped his throat and said hoarsely, “My voice isn’t very good. I can’t chant now. Maybe in a few days.” I said, “OK” and he left. But how will I find him?” Good luck.

On the eve of Gaura Purnima I was in a room with Gopati, Visvakarma, Nandikesvara, and one or two other devotees. I said, “Let’s go see if we can find Krishna dasa Babaji. You’ve got your recorder Gopati - let’s go!”

We went down to the main road and hired a couple of rickshaws and went up the road to Bhaktisiddhanta’s ashram. I asked a devotee there, “Where can we find Krishna dasa Babaji?” He said, “He’s at Yoga Pitha.” So we went back to Yoga Pitha and walked up the pathway from the road to the main temple area, and when we were passing the side of the temple some Gaudiya Matha devotees saw us motioned for us to come up on the temple stage, i.e., the same raised level as the Deities’ altars, and with the other esteemed devotees who were there.

We walked up the stairs to the stage and they put garlands on us and sandalwood paste, and we’re standing up there in front of a crowd of thousands of devotees who were chanting and dancing in a big kirtan going on in the courtyard in front of the Deities.

Then I looked across the stage and I saw Krishna dasa babaji! I motioned to him with raised hands and he recognized and acknowledged me. I let the others know he was there too and I kept my eyes locked on him. About 10 minutes later he quickly exited down the stairs on the other side, so I said to everyone, “Let’s go,” and we all left too.

I caught up to him right near the entrance gate and he said, “What is your program?” I said, “My program is to chant with you nonstop - for 24 hours. We want to chant with you.” He responded, “OK, come with me.” We go out to the road and he talks to a rickshaw driver and the rickshaw driver is giving him a hard time because wants to charge three times as much, i.e., tourist holiday rates, so they’re arguing and negotiating and the rickshaw driving isn’t budging.

Finally, Krsna Dasa Babaji said, “Never mind. Let’s walk.” So we all start walking up the road and a minute later the rickshaw driver drives up slowly beside us and motions for us to get in - for the regular rate.. So we get in and ride to Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati's ashram again.

We get there and he takes us to Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati’s Samadhi and we set up the recorder but there’s no mridanga. I said, “We need a mridanga.” He said, “Just a minute.” Then he went to the temple area where they were performing arati. He comes right back and says, “When the arati is finished, they’ll bring a mridanga.” I said, “OK. I’m very thirsty, is there some water somewhere?” He taps my bead bag and says, “Drink the Holy Name!”

Then we all sat down in front of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati's samadhi, Gopati had everything ready to record, and Krsna Dasa Babaji started chanting mantras a cappella. We recorded that for several minutes and finally a group of devotees came from the arati with the mridanga and gave it to Krsna Dasa Babaji, who then started playing it while continuing to chant.

We chanted for a while and then another devotee friend of his came - Mohini Mohan, and he chanted a few bhajans (Nacare amar mon) which we also recorded. After that everyone dispersed as it was late, and we returned to the ISKCON property very excited that our mission was successful on that auspicious night. That was my last meeting with Krsna Dasa Babaji. I never saw him again.

Vishnudatt and the Percussive Force

A vital figure in bringing authentic Indian percussion to the Western yatra was Vishnudatt dasa. Unlike many self-taught early devotees, Vishnudatt’s drumming was rooted in formal classical training. While living in Calcutta, he studied traditional Bengali khol under classical masters, mastering syncopated thumb work and intricate finger techniques. He further expanded his repertoire by studying tabla under Pandit Sharda Sahai of the Benares gharana, creating a style that blended formal Indian discipline with intense spiritual passion.

Vishnudatt’s percussive mastery helped to fuel major kirtan milestones across the movement:

Mombasa Collaborations 1975: Teaming up with legendary kirtan leaders Dinanath dasa and Rksaraja dasa in Kenya, Vishnudatt’s dynamic drumming created monumental kirtans throughout the African yatra.

The 1976 Kirtan Tour: Joined by kirtaniyas such as Uttamasloka, Vishwakarma, Vishnudatt drove intense temple kirtans from Chicago to Detroit and Toronto. The momentum of the tour continued to Montreal with Nanda Kesvara, culminating in an iconic kirtan at 30,000 feet aboard an Air India Boeing 747 heading to India.

New Remuna Dham Arati (1977): Recorded in Toronto during a visit to the Avenue Road temple, Vishnudatt led a memorable Sri Gaura Arati session. He was surrounded by prominent leaders including Chicago Temple President Uttamasloka dasa, Toronto Temple President Vishwakarma dasa, head cook Ayodhyapati dasa (later BB Govinda Swami), and Temple Commander Bhaktimarga dasa (later known as "The Walking Monk").

The Chicago Revolution and Preserving the Legacy

Uttamasloka describes the Chicago kirtans:

I returned to Toronto from India in 1974 and began listening and learning from the recording of Krsna Dasa Babaji. I tried to incorporate some things and we implemented just a little bit of what I learned. But it wasn’t until I went to Chicago and we had more recordings that I could start to expand my learning and develop a style of playing the new beats and rhythms that would work well throughout the kirtan and within my limited capabilities.

In Chicago, Visnudatta was there and he was much more adept than me on mridanga, having learned in India and being a skillful musician. During his time in Chicago I was learning, developing and refining what became my eventual style, which is pretty basic, but solid and effective. That evolution matured in Chicago and Chicago became the center of Bengali-style kirtans for ISKCON during that period.

In New York there was Dhira Krishna and on the West Coast there was Jayasacinandana and Puspadanta. They were into the Bengali style as well and they were hopelessly trying to introduce that style in their respective temples. If you wanted to lead a kirtan in Los Angeles or New York you had to put your name on the list and you’d be lucky to lead one kirtan a week. So you’re not going to transform the temple into a new style of chanting with one kirtan a week. It didn’t happen in Los Angeles and it didn’t happen in New York, and they were frustrated as a result. I talked to them about it.

But in Chicago we didn’t have any barriers because I was the Temple President and primary kirtan leader. So we just did it, we just developed it together. Everybody eagerly went along with it, it was fantastic and it happened organically. It’s not like we had to have rehearsals. No. Everybody just fell into it over time as it evolved.

We had a certain number of small, medium and large kartals, gongs, etc. It was like an orchestra - a Gamelan orchestra. Each different set of those instruments was taken care of by one devotee who played them at every kirtan - it was their instrument in the group.

Chicago Style

Under the leadership of Uttamasloka as temple president and with Vishnudatt’s percussive leadership, Chicago became the epicenter of a revolutionary kirtan culture in 1976 and 1977. Integrating traditional Bengali syncopations and powerful rhythmic buildups, these daily kirtans—spanning morning Mangal arati to evening Sandhya arati (a routine affectionately dubbed "the sandwich" by Praghosa dasa)—fueled the famous book distribution efforts at O'Hare Airport.

The Chicago style prioritized group unity and integration over individual virtuosity. Key practices defined their approach:

A capella Openings: Beginning prayers like Pranams or Guru Puja related mantras were sung a cappella, which created an intimate, personal atmosphere that unified the congregation before the instruments joined in. For Mangala Arati, the focus began with pranam prayers to Srila Prabhupada and this was very powerful.

Accessibility Over Display: Rather than using complex drum solos that could alienate listeners, Uttamasloka emphasized rock-solid, steady drumming that enveloped the temple room, ensuring every devotee could participate as a single unit.

To ensure these sacred soundscapes were not lost, devotees around the movement recorded kirtans. In Chicago, Gopati utilized audiophile equipment, including a Nakamichi 550 portable studio system with three-microphone arrangements, capturing recordings of devotee kirtans across India and North America. Exchanging recordings became part of interactions with devotees.  Gopati even had a tape catalog from which he would ship copies to devotees around the world.  There was no competition, just shared discoveries.

Ultimately, these programs transformed Lord Chaitanya’s Vaishnava philosophy into a lived, dynamic reality, accessible around the world. By showing how individual artistic and technical talents—from guitar playing to audio engineering—could be dovetailed into devotional service, an entire generation of devotees established a vibrant musical legacy preserved for future generations.

A Kirtan Conversation

Uttamasloka:  Everybody fell into it naturally. There was nothing forced, nothing artificial. If you remember, I kept reminding the devotees, “Look, our kirtans may be stylistically more refined than others, and more musical, but it doesn’t mean we have more bhakti because of that. We have to add the bhakti on top of that, or within that, to make those refinements actually worthwhile. Otherwise, they’re just external refinements that are a bit empty or shallow, and that’s not good. That’s not what we’re after.

We’re after the bhakti; and if we can put whipped cream and cherries on top, all the better.” I made sure that everybody had that mentality. At least in my mind, I remember it that way. And everybody did. Nobody felt left out. The women didn’t feel left out. It wasn’t like there was a little core thing with a few devotees and everybody was on the outside or in the back going, “Oh well, I guess they’re having fun.”

Gopati:  One of the things that I remember is even though we had specific styles we were pursuing, it was collaborative. Everybody had a role to play.  An example may be the kitchen where we worked together to produce a feast. Not everybody walked in the kitchen and decided “I’m making this” and “I’m making that.” No, there was somebody who was in charge, and they would orchestrate.

I think it was a very similar thing. In my mind, this ties into the fact that when you start reading histories of Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati and read about Srila Prabhupada and even Lord Caitanya, they had specific devotees they chose to lead kirtan. Narottama dasa Thakura was another example. One thing that always accompanied it was the sweet voice, the ability to play musically.

And it wasn’t just that these devotees were specifically more surrendered souls than somebody else, as much as, it was like making a beautiful, delicious prasadam preparation to offer to Krishna and to serve in a feast. This is about having movement. Movement from my own personal bhakti and we come together as a unified congregation, and it becomes the essence of Lord Caitanya’s program of dancing, chanting, and feasting.

It’s easy to get confused though, because there are a lot of devotees who pushed back on the organized nature of it. But organizing these things was potent, it had an effect. Look at the festivals we had in Chicago where we didn’t advertise and all of a sudden a thousand people would show up. It really had an effect on the community and it wasn’t done for our own personal satisfaction. It was all done for the pleasure of Lord Caitanya and Srila Prabhupada.

Uttamasloka:  Yeah, bhakti means give the best that you have on every level and give it to Krishna. You’ve been giving it to yourself; now give it to Krishna and watch what happens. That’s what we did, and that was the pervasive mood as you said. And people picked up on that because whoever they talked to, they got a little bit of that same energy from everybody.

So that was powerful, that everybody supported it and felt that and benefited from it, and that was conveyed to the public. That’s what made the temple so wonderful, because everybody felt like they were part of it. They didn’t feel left out. Anybody who wanted to talk to me could talk to me about anything, and I was always fair and reasonable.

Talking about push back, I don’t want to forget one incident. Satsvarupa wrote a letter to Prabhupada, “Prabhupada, they’re chanting these Bengali melodies and following the kirtan style of this Krishna dasa Babaji. Is that bona fide?” And Prabhupada said, “Who is this Krishna dasa Babaji?!”

Well, Satsvarupa didn’t tell him, “It’s your dear godbrother.” He left out that important detail. Prabhupada said (paraphrasing), “A few melodies, that’s fine, and some nice playing. That’s not a problem.” So basically Prabhupada didn’t get upset by it, and he essentially said, “It’s OK, just don’t make a big thing out of it.” Satsvarupa thought he could get something to shut me down but it didn’t work.

Ironically, I don’t know if you remember, for a short while Satsvarupa was the GBC in Chicago after Jayatirtha. One time he asked me, “How are things going in the temple?” “Everything’s fine.” I said, and gave him some relevant details. He said, “Well, it seems like everything’s going well, so there’s not really any reason for me to be here.” And I said, “Yeah, not really.” I think I hid the mild sarcasm well - maybe not.

But the other thing was, he came up from a morning program one day and said, “What Uttamasloka chants today, ISKCON chants tomorrow.” I looked at him and said, “What?!” Because all we did was pass tapes around, and who knows where they ended up. It wasn’t a systematic endeavor. It was just sending tapes to someone, then he made a copy and the next person made a copy. But when people listen to the recordings of those kirtans now, they say, “That was going on in the ’70s? Wow!” It blows their minds.

Gopati:  I remember every single kirtan, no matter what it was, we always ran to participate. Everybody participated. Everything was geared around that, and what a difference. You felt like you were doing something. It made sense out of living in a temple. We weren’t distributing any less books. We were focusing on prasadam, kirtan. And as a matter of fact, we were distributing more books than almost anywhere else because that ended up being the measure of what a successful temple was.

And the reality is devotees, we live in a society, International Society for Krishna Consciousness. There are many aspects. It’s developed in many different directions. Yes, there’s key things to look at. But when it comes down to it, it’s like that point you were just making. What can I do for Krishna today? And what can I do for Srila Prabhupada, and what’s the best way to do what I know how to do or I’m learning about?

Uttamasloka:  A lot of devotees overemphasize austerities and justify their extreme behaviors, “I’m doing austerities.” We did austerities too. Going out and doing books wasn’t an easy thing; you had to have some determination and staying power. But we had all those other things to counterbalance the austerities to make it feel worthwhile, and that we were getting this higher taste. You couldn’t be in our kirtan and not get a higher taste unless you were brain dead. And what to speak of prasadam, that was the highest taste - literally.

I never forgot Radhavallabha, the BBT guy from L.A., he came through our temple, and he ate a huge amount of the famous and loved Jagannatha Puri dal that you made. He said, “I’m just want to eat this, I don’t want anything else. I’m going to take some for the plane ride to Los Angeles.” He was going nuts over just the dal and couldn’t stop raving about it.  

When the prasadam makes you go crazy like that... And it wasn’t that it was super-opulent - it was just first class. First class. And that made the devotees feel like they were being taken care of.

Gopati:  Right, not just the devotees feeling taken care of, though. It’s Krishna, it’s Kishora-Kishori and how we took care of Them. Of course, you have to add the whole process of Deity worship, which cooking is an extension of, kirtan is an extension of. All the details were important, and doing the best we could was just understood. We knew this was the way to do it just because of what we had learned.

Uttamasloka:  I remember in Toronto before Chicago, we had really, really powerful kirtans. It wasn’t full Bengali style, but it was really incredible. And then we’d go out on the street and do Harinama and do a conservative “Hare Krishna...,” double line, nagar. And then I thought people are passing by, they’re going “OK, that’s cute. Weird, but OK.”

Then I thought, “This isn’t how we chant in the temple. Let’s do what we do in the temple here on the streets and blow people’s minds.” So I found a storefront that was closed. It acted like one of those outdoor concert domes. It formed a great acoustic space for us because it was a triangular open space off the sidewalk to the store entrance. We were in there so the sound would project out, and I led a kirtan like we did in the temple. The devotees were ecstatic, and the people were amazed and the crowds grew quickly to watch us.

After I stepped down as Temple President of ISKCON Chicago (by my own choice) I got a job downtown in the famous financial district with the small company who helped us finance the new temple we just bought on Lunt Street. The offices were on the second floor and overlooked a huge sky scraper across the street with a big outdoor courtyard filled with thousands of people during lunch.

One day my boss Lloyd said to me, “Hey Ron, when are we going to see you chant on the street with the devotees?” I told him that I would arrange it soon. So I discussed it with Sivarama, who took over for me as TP, and whom I shaved up and trained up in Montreal when I was TP there. I told him to bring a big sankirtan party downtown, across the street from my offices, but don’t tell the devotees that I’m going to join you. I’ll surprise them.

The day came and in my office, we finally heard the tinkling of the kartals way down the street as the kirtan party approached the chosen destination. The kirtan party stopped at a great spot across the street, with very wide sidewalks, and hundreds of people started to gather around to watch and listen. It was a very big crowd. Everyone in my office looked at me and I smiled and then hurried downstairs and outside.

As I was making my way towards the devotees, a couple of guys walking beside me said a bit sarcastically, “Hey look! It’s the Hare Krsnas. Let’s go chant with them.” I looked at them and said, “Yah, let’s go chant with them!” They were surprised to hear me agree and smiled excitedly. So we made our way together across the street and cut through the thick crowd gathered on the sidewalk in front of the devotees.

As we got closer they started to look a bit confused because they really just wanted to go and watch, but I kept going right up to the devotees, and as I did I looked around at them and smiled cheekily. They were dumbfounded, and so were the other people in the crowd who didn’t know what was going on or what to expect.

Keep in mind I was wearing a suit and tie and I had a mustache and my hair was grown in, so I looked like everyone else in the crowd. Business as usual. When the devotees saw and recognized me they became ecstatic, jumping and dancing even more enthusiastically.

Then the kirtan stopped, and Tranakarta walked over to me and gave me a mrdanga. No one said a word. I turned around to face the crowd and I started playing and chanting in my usual style. We had a very intense and ecstatic kirtan for about 15 minutes. I did a few fancy moves on the mrdanga too.

The crowd was spellbound and wide-eyed, with jaws open, and especially the two guys I walked with. I completely blew their minds. They had huge smiles on their faces. I looked up across the street while chanting and saw everyone in my office at the windows jumping and waving at me with big smiles too.

Then the kirtan crescendoed ecstatically and ended and I handed the mridanga back to Tranakarta. We didn’t say a word. We just smiled at each other knowing that we had just blown everyone’s minds. The devotees gave me a cookie and started chanting a mellow kirtan and walked on from that spot and out of sight. I stood there eating the cookie and watched them leave, and the crowd just stared not knowing what to think about who I was and what just happened.

The crowd dispersed quickly as everyone had to get back to work after lunch. I walked back to my office. My coworkers were very excited and they loved the kirtan. I blew their minds too. Of course, they knew I was a devotee and the former TP so that wasn’t a surprise.

I was still fired up from the kirtan and went to the window to look at the scene again. The crowd was gone, but there was a policeman standing where the kirtan was and he was looking at a BTG he got from the devotees. He closed the magazine, rolled it up, and started tapping, ‘1-2-3, 1-2-3’. He was remembering the kirtan! That was a little icing on the cake for me.

Gopati dasa: “You took the Bengali style and made it work for everybody. A lot of times what happens… it’s like you were mentioning Visnudatta, and we both love Visnudatta. What a great guy, and there’s no question about his artistic talents and his devotion too. He was able to do it; nobody else was really able to do it like him. His musicianship with drum was above and beyond. It was an expression of fantastic ability.

Whereas what you had done was put it together in a way that made sense for everybody. And it wasn’t bringing on the off-beat because it’s funky and proper Bengali-style that was not as pleasant to western-tuned ears. It was actually quite the opposite, the Chicago-style kirtan really pulled it together so people just loved hearing it and loved being part of it.

Uttamasloka:  Yeah, it was inviting because everyone felt like they were part of it. It wasn’t like this little central kirtan, “We’re into it, and you guys can come along if you want to.” No, it was, “We’re all doing this together. If we don’t do it together, it’s not going to work right. Everybody has to be part of it.” That’s what I tried to do. I was conscious of that, and I wanted to make sure that element was in place.

Otherwise, it becomes too clique-y. Visnudatta was perfect for the bhajans because he could be more expressive in that context and that’s fine. But, again, no other temple had a bhajan class on Wednesday night to teach everybody the melodies so we could sing all these bhajans together and and just sit and chant and imbibe that type of energy.

Then we had the bhajans in the morning, Jiv Jago, Vibhavari Sesa. It was a rich, rich, program so the devotees were surcharged and had the necessary energy to go and do whatever service they were doing. Praghosa used to call it the kirtan sandwich. They couldn’t wait to come home at night for the Sandhya arati to sandwich the whole day. Kiba jaya jaya gorachander... Like you said, everybody ran to it. They wanted to be there… it was like going to the club to see the band, but you’re also in it!

It actually energized people because everybody was treated fairly and inclusively, and nobody felt left out. Everybody knew they could approach me for anything. I was available, and I wasn’t putting on airs that I was better or I was in some superior position. This was my service, to serve you, to make things work so that the temple flowed like a well oiled machine, but not an impersonal machine.

The organizational mechanisms were in place and that allowed us to keep the personal side alive because we weren’t burdened and frustrated by things being mismanaged. When things are disorganized, it disturbs the mind. And it’s hard for bhakti to flourish when the mind is disturbed because mundane things aren’t organized well or the prasadam isn’t good.

Implementing solid management practices took care of the foundational side so nobody had to worry about that. Like I told you before, I told the women, “Don’t focus on collecting money. Just focus on distributing books and collect whatever you can. I’ll worry about the money. Don’t worry about what you’re collecting, just do your best. Whatever it is, I accept and so does Krishna. So don’t stress over that. Just try to do as many books as you can without going nuts and you’re good, and I’ll worry about the other stuff.”

Gopati:  It was a feeling of abundance, and it wasn’t because we had a lot of money. It was abundance because our life was full. It really was right in sync with that understanding that the spiritual world is always expanding. It always felt that way, and that’s probably one of the reasons why so many devotees had such strong disappointment and difficulties after Prabhupada left. It was this incredible idea that we were living a spiritual life in the spiritual world. It wasn’t a matter that we were not participating in the world as it operates. We were just participating in a way that we were using everything in Krishna’s service. We weren’t exceptions to the rule, so to speak.

Chicago Kirtan Page and Video Links