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Evilartform
Broken Pottery

EvilArtForm releases Broken Pottery: an electro-sufi meditation on repair and transcendence
Washington, DC — Broken Pottery, the new track from EvilArtForm (the experimental project of Omar Pitras Waqar), is a shimmering collision of mantra, dhikr, tarana, and electronic improvisation. Inspired by the Japanese art of kintsugi—repairing broken ceramics with gold—the piece reimagines trauma and heartbreak as radiant openings, transforming cracks into conduits for spirit and sound.
Across the track, chants of “Hari,” “Om,” and “Prem Divani” weave through ambient atmospheres, glitching electronics, and deep bass currents. The result is both hypnotic and devotional: part ritual, part electronic journey. Rooted in Sufi practice yet unafraid of experimental edges, Broken Pottery offers listeners a space where grief dissolves into transcendence.
For fans of Massive Attack, Portishead, Björk (Vespertine / Medúlla), Dead Can Dance, Talvin Singh, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan with Michael Brook, Burial, Four Tet, Muslimgauze, Brian Eno, Arooj Aftab, Kode9, and Jon Hassell, the track bridges worlds—spiritual and electronic, underground and devotional. Its cinematic parallels include Baraka, Samsara, Only Lovers Left Alive, The Fountain, Metropolis, Blade Runner, The Holy Mountain, and Tarkovsky’s Stalker. Literarily, it resonates with Rumi’s ecstatic verse, Attar’s Conference of the Birds, Haruki Murakami’s dreamscapes, William Gibson’s Neuromancer, Octavia Butler’s prophetic sci-fi, and Carl Jung’s Red Book.
EvilArtForm is the moniker of Omar Pitras Waqar, a Washington, DC–based composer, guitarist, sitarist, and producer who has worked across punk, Sufi-inspired sitar, experimental electronics, and film scores. His work has been featured in international film festivals, museum exhibitions, and on television. Through his independent label OPW Dubs, Waqar champions radical DIY spirit, sonic experimentation, and a commitment to reshaping sound on his own terms.
Broken Pottery continues Waqar’s exploration of electro-sufi and anarcho-sufi soundscapes—music that emerges from both healing and rebellion, equally at home in underground clubs, art galleries, and meditative gatherings. It is a reminder that what shatters can be rebuilt, that music itself is a vessel for repair. For fans of Massive Attack and Portishead, of trip hop shadows and future bass experiments, of ambient soundscapes that dissolve into dream, of Sade’s velvet melancholy and the R&B atmospheres that bleed into The Weeknd’s nocturnal moods. For art school kids and design obsessives, for dancers who move like broken pottery being put back together, for those who find meaning in ceramics, sculpture, and the kintsugi philosophy of repair. Sonically aligned with Talvin Singh’s tabla-driven electronica, Björk’s Vespertine and Medúlla-era vocal architectures, the gothic world-building of Dead Can Dance, and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s transcendent improvisations, especially his reimagined collaborations with Michael Brook. Connected to Ravi Shankar’s avant-garde experiments, Burial’s ghostly garage beats, Four Tet’s organic electronics, Muslimgauze’s radical sound collage, Brian Eno’s ambient blueprints, Arooj Aftab’s aching minimalism, Kode9’s bass futurism, and Jon Hassell’s fourth-world music for imaginary places.
Cinematic kindred spirits include the sweeping visuals of Baraka and Samsara, the vampiric elegance of Only Lovers Left Alive, the metaphysical search of The Fountain, Jodorowsky’s mystical provocation in The Holy Mountain, the machine-age futurism of Metropolis, the rain-soaked neon of Blade Runner, the surreal wanderings of Holy Motors, and Tarkovsky’s meditations in Stalker. Literarily, the music lives alongside Rumi’s ecstatic poetry, Attar’s The Conference of the Birds, the dreamscapes of Haruki Murakami, William Gibson’s Neuromancer and the birth of cyberpunk, Octavia Butler’s prophetic science fiction, and Carl Jung’s visionary Red Book.
It belongs to scenes and subcultures that refuse to be boxed in: the devotional ecstasy of Sufi qawwali gatherings, the pulse of underground raves and ambient nights, the rough edges of anarcho-punk spiritual DIY, post-colonial electronic fusions that deconstruct borders, and the quiet glow of kintsugi-inspired art. This is music for seekers and skeptics, mystics and misfits, those drawn to the language of electro-sufi, anarcho-sufi, and desigoth aesthetics—where healing, rebellion, and imagination collapse into one shared sound.

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