In In the Loving Memory of You, Roger Andersson personal grief into music and concrete action. Driven by devastating losses — of friends, family members, and loved ones — he created a project that goes beyond a traditional album: it is a tribute, a call to open conversations about mental health, and a practical initiative to support suicide prevention in Sweden, with 100% of profits going to the organization Suicide Zero.

By Sandra Pinto

In this interview, Andersson, Suicide Records founder, discusses how grief became a creative force, the importance of bringing together artists from different countries around such a sensitive topic, and the role of music not just as art, but as real emotional support that can save lives. He shares his own experiences with mental health and substance abuse, the care taken in curating the album, and the dedication to every detail of the project, highlighting the solidarity and empathy alive in today’s music scene.

The title In the Loving Memory of You is deeply emotional. At what point did you realize this project needed to exist — and that it needed to carry exactly this tone?
Mental illness has been a constant presence throughout my life — in myself, within my family, and among close friends. Over the years, several people I’ve loved have died from suicide or overdoses. In December 2022, I learned that the son of a close friend had taken his own life. Three months later, my brother-in-law died the same way. Nine months after that, my daughter’s uncle passed away from an overdose.
After that last loss, something shifted in me. I felt a strong need to do something tangible — not just to process my own grief, but to help create more open conversations around mental illness and to raise money for a Swedish organization dedicated to suicide prevention.
What form that effort would take became clear almost immediately. Music has always been a vital part of my life, especially during difficult times, and since I run a record label, it felt natural that the project should live through music. It was also essential to me that it carried real emotional weight — the kind of intensity, grief, and love that surfaces when someone close to you is suddenly gone. That’s when I knew not only that the project needed to exist, but that it had to carry exactly this tone.

You mention that after three devastating losses, “there was no other path.” How did transforming such profound grief into concrete action affect your own healing process?
From the very beginning, turning my grief into action gave me energy and direction at a time when everything else felt overwhelming. It became a way to process and organize my thoughts and emotions around the loss of these three people. I lived and breathed the project—there wasn’t a single day when I wasn’t talking or emailing someone about it—and through that constant engagement, I was also able to openly discuss mental health, grief, and suicide. That ongoing dialogue didn’t just move the project forward; it became an essential part of my own healing.

Sweden is often seen as a country with high social well-being, yet suicide rates tell a different story. Why do you think it’s still so difficult to speak openly about this issue?
Even in a country like Sweden, where social well-being is generally high, many people don’t know who to turn to or how to begin conversations about their inner struggles. Often, you can’t fully explain why you feel bad—you just do—and that makes it even harder to speak up. There’s also a strong tendency not to burden others with your issues and carry things alone. Over time, that silence allows the weight to grow heavier, until it becomes too much to bear.

Why was it important for you that 100% of the profits go to Suicide Zero, and how do you see the organization’s role in preventing suicides?
From the start, it was obvious that as much money as possible—and ultimately 100% of the profits—should go to Suicide Zero, because this project was never meant to be a conventional record release. It had a clear purpose beyond the music itself.
Suicide Zero plays a crucial role in suicide prevention in Sweden by working on multiple levels: raising awareness, identifying gaps in society, and spreading practical knowledge that can save lives. Their work ranges from influencing policymakers and other key social actors to offering concrete suicide-prevention training for both professionals and the general public. By equipping people with the tools to recognize risk and act in time, they help turn concern into action. Every suicide is one too many, and supporting Suicide Zero felt like a meaningful way to contribute to real, long-term change.

The album brings together 16 bands from different countries and styles. How did you curate the lineup and communicate with the artists around such a sensitive theme?
Early on, I had a clear vision of creating a double vinyl that brought together many bands, divided into two complementary sides: one heavier and noisier, and the other calmer and more restrained. Even with that contrast, the theme remained dark and heavy throughout, which helped create a strong common thread across the entire project.
The lineup came together organically. Some of the bands are friends or acquaintances whom I approached directly, explaining the purpose of the project and asking if they wanted to be part of something meaningful. Others were artists I deeply admire, and I simply reached out to them with the same honesty. Because the cause was clear and handled with respect, the conversations around the sensitive theme felt natural and open, and the artists connected to it in their own ways.

Skitsystem’s participation, releasing their first new song in 18 years, was a milestone. What does this symbolize to you within the context of the project?
Skitsystem’s participation carries deep personal and symbolic meaning for me. Fredrik is a close friend, and were present when our mutual friend’s son took his own life, so the loss at the heart of this project is something we share.
When I reached out to ask—almost not daring to hope—that Skitsystem might
contribute with a new song, Fredrik told me he already had lyrics written, shaped directly by his experience of that tragedy. Within the context of the project, their first new song in 18 years symbolizes how grief can be transformed into expression, and how silence can be broken, even after a long time. It shows that something deeply painful can still give rise to creation, dialogue, and movement forward—exactly what this project is about.

You’ve spoken openly about your own history with substance abuse and a suicide attempt. How challenging was it to revisit these experiences while creating the album?
Revisiting those experiences was intense, but ultimately more helpful than harmful. Looking back at my own history—my struggles with substance abuse and my suicide attempt—felt surprisingly liberating. Instead of letting those dark thoughts and feelings remain unspoken, the process allowed me to confront them openly and honestly. Bringing them into the light, rather than leaving them to fester in silence, became a healthy and necessary part of creating the album.

In your view, how can music function as a real emotional support — not just as art, but as something that can literally save lives?
I can only speak from my own experience, but for me, music has never been just art—it has been a constant and reliable form of emotional support. It has shaped who I am and has always been something I could lean on: a companion, a source of strength, and sometimes a place to release grief and fear. During the darkest periods of my life, music gave me a way to feel understood and less alone. In that sense, it can do more than express emotions—it can help people survive, and in some cases, quite literally save lives.

The album’s aesthetic care is evident, from mastering to the cover art by Error! Design. Why was it essential for the project to be treated with this level of respect and excellence?
For me—and I believe for everyone involved—this project was always connected to one or more loved ones we carried with us while working on it. Because of that, it felt natural and necessary to treat every detail with the highest level of respect and care. From the mastering to the artwork by Error! Design, the project demanded the same seriousness as the subject it addresses. Anything less would have felt dishonest to the people we were honoring and to the message we wanted to convey.

Many partners contributed voluntarily to maximize donations to Suicide Zero. What does this collective effort say about the music scene and solidarity today?
I was genuinely moved by how many people chose to contribute their time, skills, and even their own money to support the project. That kind of voluntary commitment says a lot about the strength of solidarity within the music scene.
I believe this scene has long understood the power of using its voice and resources to support important causes, and this collective effort shows that sense of responsibility and community is still very much alive today.

You founded Suicide Records with the idea of releasing only music you would personally pay to listen to. How does this principle connect with a project so personal and socially engaged?
I’m always personally invested in everything I release on Suicide Records—it’s still music I would pay to listen to myself. But this project went
even deeper than usual. It wasn’t an ordinary release; it was deeply personal and socially engaged, and that changed the way I approached it. I had to think and work differently, under completely different conditions, because the motivation wasn’t only artistic, but also ethical and emotional.

After almost 20 years running Suicide Records, does this album occupy a different place in the label’s history? If so, why?
It definitely does. After almost 20 years of running Suicide Records, this album occupies a very different place in the label’s history. It’s not just another release—it’s a tribute to those who are no longer with us, and at the same time a record meant to give strength to those of us who remain. Because of that, it carries a purpose and weight that goes far beyond any other release I’ve done.

If someone struggling with suicidal thoughts listens to this album or reads about the project, what is the most important message you would want them to take away?
The most important message is this: you are not alone! No matter how isolated or overwhelmed you feel, there are people who want to listen and help. I hope the album encourages anyone struggling to find the courage to open up—to a family member, a friend, a coworker, or even someone they don’t know. Bringing those thoughts out of the darkness and into the light by talking about them can be a lifeline. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

LISTEN HERE

Bandcamp here

Photo: Richard Bloom