The highway en route to Minneapolis airport looked like a rum raisin Slush puppy in the late days of March 1987. It was raining in the middle of the night. The car flipped and spun seven times before the snowy field finally stopped it. He wasn't moving. And as I looked at his crumpled body, I panicked, crawled out of the car and ran away. It really hurt losing my friend… In the mid-90s I moved to Sweden to see my Swedish cousins and my grandmother. I lived with her for a few years, and then found a small and quiet house among the trees. 34 years ago, this record was supposed to be the soundtrack for what some said would have been the coming-of-age movie of the decade. But due to unforeseen circumstances, the death of my friend, the director of the movie, led everything to a grinding halt, and left on the shelf, and has been so since March 1987. It took me this long to feel like I was ready. But now I felt the story needed to be told, to finally get it out in the open and leave it behind. And it seems to be about the right timing amidst the 80s vibe that for some reason has become a trend these past few years. So, I got in touch with a lot of talented people to help me finish it. People who could interpret the message I was trying to get across and deliver it in their own way. I let them say what they wanted to say without holding them back. I am not the artist.