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15 posts tagged Omar Waqar
Omar Waqar of Sarmust - Evil Eye unplugged @ VOA studios
Omar Waqar of Sarmust Improvising Sultan Bahu’s Kalaam @ VOA Studios
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Sending the birds
by Omar Waqar
album Single
Omar Waqar - Sending the Birds Jazz/Swing 2010
This improvised mélange of piano and guitar was inspired by the great Jazz pianist Thelonius Monk. The title is a reference to sending a musical carrier pigeon with a love message, which later took on another meaning during the 2010 Kyrgistani uprising.
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Waaaaaaaa
by Evil Art Form
album Rejected Tracks
Evil Art Form- “Waaaaaaaa” 2009
A slicing experiment set to some free styln piano, tryna get African? Miami-sound? dirty-south? not sure really…
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Yang ching gOODNESS
by Evil Art Form
Evil Art From -“Yang ching gOODNESS” 2005 Such records.
Though this track is named after an instrument, the sliced and diced sound of the “yang chi’n” or Chinese hammered dulcimer, is not quite apparent at first in this track the jagged and staccato sliced samples pulse with a nature that is completely opposite of the instrument that they originally came from. The layers of flute, dulcimer and rhythm bounce in an abstract dance pattern, Utilizing more breaks and pauses, than flowing flute or dulcimer-like tones. This experiment in sounds and rhythms has evolved this into some type of hybrid Asian-electro-glitch-pop. Somewhere between a quirky cellphone ring tone and the dance floor.
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Machine guns (Acoustic demo)
by Sarmust
album Acoustic demo 2009
Sarmust - “Machine guns” (acoustic demo) 2009
Lyrics:
You say you know, where evil goes, where evil lies, but i can see it in your eyes, this gangland your land my land stolen, angry babies bellies swollen, who made those guns, who armed the young.
But i do not fear machines guns, i do not hear machine guns i am deaf to all but love.
In the Khyber Pass, where the hippies laughed, and Alexander passed, well now a days the kids they make their guns by hand. Forged in fire not cold war the triggers all implore, you can’t just disregard and then bombard and then ignore.
But i do not fear machines guns, i do not hear machine guns i am deaf to all but love.
There’s a garden in Punjab, bullet holes in the walls, each one is framed, so our children don’t forget but some how i feel regret. Near the Golden Temple they felt free to assemble, anger came in armoured cars, and bodies fell like shooting stars.
History scars, History’s scars
But i do not fear machines guns, i do not hear machine guns i am deaf to all but love.
