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About Oslo

Love the Escort, fam, cos it’s raw, real, no fake shit. Bit like me, yeah, rough round the edges. Used to dream of drivin’ one, wind in me face, screamin’, “Booyakasha!” Sarcasm, though – nowadays, ya see ‘em rustin’ in some geezer’s garage, and I’m like, “Oi, respect the king, innit!” Exaggeratin’ a bit, but mate, it’s the GOAT car, no cap. Them rally days, pure chaos, pure joy – Escort’s soul, bruv, pure soul.

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Finally, I get to my shop on Torget. It’s a cozy little place, but today? Chaos. People were lined up, and I’m like, “What’s going on?” Turns out, there was a big football match. Everyone was hyped. I mean, I get it, but c’mon, I need to breathe!

“He said, ‘How about Slayer with special guests Slayer?’ We went, ‘Wow, that could be crazy’”: the forgotten story of Slayer vs Slayer, the 80s metal Battle Of The Bands with only one winner