Polymerase: Mindspace
Photo by Berbong Pitik
Polymerase – Mindspace
Release Date: May 14, 2025 | Label: POT Arrow Records
Genre: Psychedelic Doom / Space Sludge | Country: Philippines
There’s a certain gravity to Mindspace — not the kind that pulls you down, but one that suspends you in orbit. On their latest full-length release, Polymerase takes a bold dive into psychedelic doom, crafting a 70-minute séance of riffs, space transmissions, and meditative haze. It’s as if the band has opened a wormhole between stoner metal’s roots and something more cosmic, cavernous, and untethered.
From Quezon City, Philippines, Polymerase has always operated on the edge of the underground—too heavy for ambient psych, too contemplative for traditional doom. With Mindspace, the trio—Vincent Jose (vocals/guitars), Allan Galiga (bass), and Francis Ilagan (drums)—expand that edge into a vast interior terrain of consciousness, pulling influence from Sleep, Om, Elder, Isis, and krautrock’s fuzzed-out legacy.
A Sonic Drift Through the Inner Cosmos
Opening track “93 Billion Light Years” begins with what sounds like a broadcast from deep space — a nod to Hawkwind’s sci-fi theatrics — before dissolving into an instrumental passage that feels more like an initiation than a song. From there, the real descent begins.
“Divine Reefer” (12:08) sets the album’s tone with slow, droning fuzz and reverb-drenched vocals that feel less sung than conjured. Jose’s voice doesn’t float above the mix—it disappears into it, like a mantra in a sensory deprivation tank. It’s clear from the outset that Polymerase isn't chasing hooks. They’re after atmosphere, ritual, and altered perception.
Tracks like “Crows and Doves” and “Incense for the Beast” stay rooted in Sabbathian molasses but are infused with unexpected shifts: distant growls, tonal drop-offs, and layered guitar loops that stretch rather than resolve. These are slow burners, and yes—at times the repetition may test your patience. But that’s part of the spell.
If some doom bands crush with weight, Polymerase drug you with delay and density. On “Cosmic Wanderlust”, guitars hum like cosmic interference, while minimalistic melodies circle the same tonal center for minutes at a time. It’s music for the threshold between waking and dreaming, better experienced than analyzed.
The album’s highlight is arguably “Interplanetary Echoes” — a 13-minute pilgrimage through noise and nebulae. The track opens with the famous cryptic spoken line “Everything is far away; everything is a copy of a copy”, then slowly builds into the heaviest groove on the record. Growled vocals erupt in bursts, adding a primal counterpoint to the otherwise detached soundscape. It’s a unique contrast: moments of chaos in a sea of sedation. Kind of startles the listening experience a little bit.
Closing track “Downward Spiral” sustains the hypnosis but flirts with classic 70s doom structure—one of the few times Polymerase feel like they’re playing songs instead of channeling energies. That said, even here the band prefers drift over drive, letting riffs spiral outward rather than conclude.
The Sonic Space Between
There’s an intentional stillness throughout Mindspace, even at its heaviest. The album walks a fine line between monotonous and meditative, sometimes losing footing with the heavier growls, but often achieving a rare immersion. What might feel like aimless repetition to one listener will be a deep psychedelic trance to another.
It’s true that the growled vocals can occasionally break the spell — jarring, like a harsh light in a dim room — but even that dissonance serves a purpose. Polymerase apparently doesn’t want you too comfortable. Mindspace captures inner turbulence as much as cosmic wonder.
A Vision Beyond Borders
It’s worth noting the album’s context. In a heavy scene still dominated by Western acts, Polymerase emerges as a singular voice from the Philippines—recording in home studios, collaborating remotely across countries, and carving out a distinctly Southeast Asian interpretation of space doom. Their music resists easy comparison but evokes a mood that’s unmistakably global, tribal, and timeless.
There’s a DIY spirit here that feels sacred. Vincent Jose, the band's core visionary, handles most of the recording, production, and even visual art. It’s that personal touch that gives Mindspace its strange beauty—not polished, but deliberate.
Final Thoughts
Mindspace is not for casual listening. It requires surrender—headphones, a dark room, maybe something herbal—and rewards those who allow themselves to drift. It’s too long for the impatient, too abstract for the traditionalist, and too slow for the mainstream. But for the introspective psychonaut? It’s a transportive journey, and one of the most intriguing doom releases of the year.
Recommended if you like: Sleep, Om, Elder, Hawkwind, King Buffalo, and falling into a black hole in slow motion.
Standout Tracks: “Divine Reefer,” “Interplanetary Echoes,” “Space Child”
Photo courtesy of The Metallist PR
