Double vinyl LP pressing. This is not music about a fast train to Paris. This is not music for airports. From an East German perspective Gajek's Vitamin D inscribes itself into the progressive myth of Krautrock by shifting the focus to a different side of German history marked by the material traces of the Cold War. This is music that knows about the coexistence of modernism and it's ruins, music about the fact that both can be there at the same time: space programs and the damp smell of unheated houses. It's music that taps into the memory of sudden ruptures, trauma and loss, not out of melancholy but to mobilize the lived experience that things can and do, in fact, change. Vitamin D catches the spirit of motorcycles made from scrap metal, of washing machine engines strapped onto strollers to make lawnmowers; a sonic love letter to people living in the margins of infrastructural programs, collecting copper pipes and engine parts in archives of metal and stone, repurposing the rubble of a violent history for dreams of a different world. There, in secret basements, where machines were built out of trash and stolen parts, Gajek finds the sonic resources for an alternative futurism of private cybernetics and pirated airwaves, creating radical and joyful sounds that claim the possibility of something new.