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THIS PAGE IS DEDICATED TO LAMENT FOR THE SHAMAN EP

Find the Bandcamp player to listen to the music here below.
Of course, Lament for the Shaman EP can also be heard in all the other usual places online.
Find the press release here, and also some of the great reviews I received for this EP.
As always, thank you very much for your continuing support.

PRESS RELEASE/ APRIL 25, 2025

And just as the butterfly dies after its transformation, the Shaman bids us farewell.

My new EP is titled ‘Lament for the Shaman EP’.
This 6 track instrumental mini album is EP number 8 and it’s a tribute.
A tribute to a friend from the past, the Lonely Shaman.

We made music together, partied hard together, but had lost sight of each other for a while.
I ran into her in the neighborhood, a few weeks before her self- chosen death.
We talked briefly, she was overflowing with inspiration.
In disbelief, I heard a few weeks later that she had passed away.

May we all remember the Shaman.
I remember.
Off you go.
Now you know.

REVIEW BY OBSCURE SOUND/ MIKE MINEO

Another riveting atmospheric success from Amsterdam- based artist Jorge Natalin,
the Lament for the Shaman EP spans successfully from the opener’s familiar folk frolicking to intriguing sonic evolutions,
like the forebodingly dark droning of “Release Now” and the industrial rhythmic pit- pattering within “Silent Incantation.”
A dynamic tonal reach is on display, as was also evident on Natalin’s previous album, Coming Down From Heaven.

This new EP plays as a tribute to a lost friend of the artist, the “Lonely Shaman” –
a creative soul the artist once made music with and also shared memorable times with, briefly reunited just weeks before her self- chosen death.
Inspired by their experiences together,
a final encounter, and the shock of her passing, Lament for the Shaman channels both admiration and grief.

A particularly touching sound emanates across “The Very Last Journey,”
invoking an otherworldly progression in its swell from flourishing psych- friendly simmers into a more organic folk-ready warmness.
The concluding dreaminess feels like a final embarkment,
in its overall sense of satiating serenity,
while the ensuing “Dedoodvandevlinder” also enthralls in its textured, noise- embracing tint.
From these concluding tracks to the dreamy folk spell of “Introducing the Physical” and delectably unsettling “Release Now,”

Lament for the Shaman represents continued quality output from Jorge Natalin.

REVIEW BY PARKETTCHANNEL/ SIMONE NOCENTINI

In his eighth EP release, Lament for the Shaman, Jorge Natalin crafts a poignant instrumental tribute that resonates with emotional depth and sonic exploration. Rooted in the intersection of Leftfield, Dreampop, and Electronic Music, the six- track mini album unfolds as a meditative journey that reflects both mourning and memory, steeped in atmosphere and a refined sense of rhythm.

The EP opens with a wash of ambient textures, setting the tone with soft, undulating synth pads that evoke a dreamlike melancholy.
From the first note, Natalin constructs an immersive sound world, where each layer seems to float weightlessly, yet is grounded by subtle rhythmic choices.
The beats throughout the record rarely dominate – instead, they pulse beneath the surface like a distant heartbeat,
gently guiding the listener through a fog of introspection.

Rhythm, while restrained, plays a crucial role in anchoring the emotional weight of the album.
Tracks shift between broken beat patterns and minimalist percussion, sometimes flirting with trip- hop tempos, but never fully committing to conventional structures. This deliberate looseness enhances the EP’s otherworldly aura, leaving space for atmosphere to bloom.
The beat programming is never ostentatious; rather, it’s meticulous in its balance –
complex enough to add texture, yet sparse enough to let the melodies speak.

Synth work across Lament for the Shaman is both central and sublime.
Natalin utilizes analog warmth and digital clarity in equal measure, sculpting shimmering leads, subdued pads,
and occasional glitch- like flourishes that feel like distant signals from a forgotten past.
The sonic palette is rich but never crowded, offering a clarity that enhances the emotional narrative.
One can hear echoes of Boards of Canada’s nostalgia- tinged soundscapes, or early M83 in their more ambient moments,
yet the EP maintains a unique voice, marked by intimacy and restraint.

Throughout the mini album, Natalin displays a masterful control of atmosphere.
The production leans heavily into spatial design, using reverb and delay not as mere effects, but as compositional tools.
This approach deepens the EP’s introspective tone, as tracks often feel like they’re unfolding in vast, uncharted emotional territory.
There is a sense of reverence in the music – an ambient mourning wrapped in digital texture, perhaps reflecting the personal story behind the release.

The emotional core of Lament for the Shaman is deeply personal.
Without a single word spoken, the EP conveys a narrative of reconnection, loss, and tribute.
It serves as a sonic elegy for a friend who inspired and created alongside Natalin, and whose presence lingers in each track like a ghost in the machine.
The EP doesn’t dwell in sorrow, but rather in remembrance – tender, reflective, and quietly powerful.

Lament for the Shaman EP stands as a high- quality release, both technically refined and emotionally resonant.
It’s a sonic monument to memory, grief, and artistic kinship – an offering that we’re honored to feature on our webzine.

REVIEW BY PITCH PERFECT/ MATT JENSEN

Jorge Natalin’s Lament for the Shaman feels less like a collection of songs and more like a passage through grief, memory, and quiet revelation.
From what I gathered, the EP serves as a tribute to someone the artist once knew, and that intention colors the entire experience.
It is not overly mournful or indulgent, but there is a solemnity to the pacing and textures that stayed with me long after it ended.

The opener, “Introducing the Physical,” immediately made me think of Animal Collective’s *Sung Tongs* era.
It has that same loose, exploratory spirit.
Centered around a repeating acoustic guitar motif, the track lets its edges fray just enough.
Other textures slowly emerge, not in a rush but with the feeling that they were always there, waiting to be uncovered.

“Release Now” shifts into a more electronic space.
An eerie drum pattern pulses beneath a growing sense of unease. From the center of the stereo field,
a fog of atmosphere begins to spread outward. It felt cinematic, the kind of track that would underscore a slow, heavy realization in a film.
When the guitar finally comes in, the whole piece snaps into focus. The tension tightens and releases in small waves.
At times, the guitar sounds like it is being pulled under by something much darker.

“Silent Incantation” begins with an inward gaze.
The opening reminded me of the softer, more haunted moments in Radiohead’s catalog.
It is meditative at first, but soon elements begin to collide.
Guitars twist around each other, the mood becomes stormy, and the sense of calm gets replaced by unease.
The track does not fully unravel, but it teeters close to the edge.
That underlying dread never fully lifts.

“Teardrop” was a highlight for me.
It is more direct than the others, built on a foundation of guitar and bass that sits front and center in the mix.
The arrangement is spacious, and the stereo image feels carefully shaped.
Subtle effects move across the speakers while the track balances that dark undercurrent with something that felt quietly hopeful.
I kept coming back to the way distance is used throughout the song. It is intimate, but not overly exposed.

“The Very Last Journey” leans into psychedelic territory. It uses a reverse effect that immediately brought to mind “Tomorrow Never Knows.”
There is a generous use of delay, and the guitar seems to blur and dissolve as the track progresses.
It is like watching something disappear into fog, slowly but deliberately.

The final track, “Dedoodvandevlinder,” brought me back to post rock touchstones like Mogwai.
There is a haziness that I loved. White noise lingers just behind the instrumentation, and the track grows in intensity without ever really bursting.
It holds tension in place, refusing to resolve in any obvious way.
The restraint makes it all the more powerful.

Lament for the Shaman works best when experienced in sequence.
Each track flows into the next with purpose, creating a meditative arc that invites full immersion.
It is subtle, textural, and emotionally charged without ever feeling overwrought.
I found myself returning to it not for answers, but for the way it sits with the questions.

REVIEW BY HAYMAI/ HAYAMI SATO

Jorge Natalin Honors a Lost Friend with Haunting Instrumental EP “Lament for the Shaman”

Released on April 25, 2025, Jorge Natalin’s latest project, Lament for the Shaman EP, is more than just his eighth release –
it’s a poignant, deeply personal tribute wrapped in six haunting instrumental tracks.
Delivered without lyrics but overflowing with emotion, this mini- album stands as a sonic memorial to a friend known as “the Lonely Shaman,”
a creative companion and once- vibrant presence in Natalin’s life.

The EP arrives cloaked in a sense of mysticism and sorrow, as suggested by its title and the story behind its creation.
In the press release accompanying the release, Natalin writes, “And just as the butterfly dies after its transformation, the Shaman bids us farewell.”
That poetic sentiment sets the tone for the entire collection, reflecting on transformation, mortality, and the fleeting nature of human connection.

According to Natalin, the inspiration for the EP came after a chance encounter with the Shaman –
a woman he once shared music and wild nights with, but had since lost touch with.
Their reunion was brief, charged with creative energy. “She was overflowing with inspiration,” he recalls.
But only weeks later, he learned of her passing – an intentional, self- chosen death that left a deep mark on the artist.
“In disbelief, I heard a few weeks later that she had passed away. May we all remember the Shaman. I remember. Off you go. Now you know.”

Through the wordless language of sound, Lament for the Shaman EP paints a vivid emotional landscape.
While no official tracklist has been detailed publicly, the work moves through stages of grief, remembrance, and reflection.
Each composition feels meditative yet layered, evoking a complex mix of mourning and reverence.
Whether driven by ambient textures, subtle rhythms, or cinematic soundscapes, the EP channels sorrow not as despair, but as a form of homage.

Natalin’s approach to this project is notably restrained – there are no vocals, no explicit messages, only the music itself, allowing listeners to interpret and
experience their own emotional journey through the tracks. It’s a creative choice that mirrors the EP’s subject: elusive, ethereal, and gone too soon.

With Lament for the Shaman EP, Jorge Natalin delivers more than an ambient or instrumental record –
he offers an elegy in six parts, a deeply personal farewell, and a tribute to a kindred spirit who left this world on her own terms.
It’s a quietly powerful release, and a reminder of the role music can play in processing loss and celebrating life, even in its most mysterious forms.

REVIEW BY CHEERS TO THE VIKINGS

Jorge Natalin’s new release “Lament for the Shaman” is a deeply moving six- track instrumental EP that feels both personal and universal.
It’s a tribute to a lost friend the Lonely Shaman and you can feel that emotional weight throughout the project.
Each track is crafted with care, offering a dark atmosphere that pulls you in.
The melodies are haunting, the moods shift gracefully and the mixing allows every layer to shine clearly.

This isn’t just background music, it’s a journey.
The EP blends electronic textures, ambient soundscapes and subtle organic touches to build a rich and emotional experience from start to finish.
You can tell that Natalin poured real heart into this and it shows in the detail and honesty of the work.
I really loved this EP. It’s varied, beautifully produced and full of feeling. Jorge’s passion and style are undeniable.
I’m already looking forward to what he creates next.

REVIEW BY INDIE TAPES/ ADRIAN PRATH

I’m thrilled to present to you a breathtaking EP, ‘Lament for the Shaman’ by Jorge Natalin from Amsterdam.
Right away, the first two tracks drew me in with their imaginative guitar arrangements and experimental sound design.
Later on, the delay effects and ambient layers continue to reflect a creative vision, blending beautiful atmospheric tones with a slightly mystical vibe. 

Instead of focusing on melody, the music builds through rich harmonic and tonal shifts, carried by dynamic, virtuosic riffs.
The six pieces are also marked by vibrant solos that create a varied listening experience for anyone who appreciates sophisticated guitar music.

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All rights reserved © AT Recordings/ Jorge Natalin/ Arno Tijnagel 2026.