Review and photos by: Ali Williams
There are certain artists that, regardless of their genre, you just can’t but help dig the noise they make. There are also certain venues that feel less like a room with a stage and more like a living, breathing organism once the lights go down and when the two combine the results are guaranteed to be something that is still spoken about in years to come.
This is exactly what happened on Friday, May 1st , when Bliss n Eso rolled into Hotel Brunswick with ECB Crew in support. The result was one of those shows that reminded everyone why Australian hip-hop hits differently when it is delivered without polish-over-personality nonsense. Now while hip hop beats and rappers spittin’ bars aren’t typically featured here at HEAVY Magazine, there are a multitude of artists we know and love that have brought the world of metal and rap together and produced some fucking epic results and as our loyal readers and listeners know we aren’t opposed to stepping outside our comfort zone to bring the masses the goods, (throwbacks to Krispy’s review of Taylor Swift that no one saw coming). Last year these guys teamed up with Grinspoon and did a remake of Chemical Heart, and did it well without murdering it. I’m also convinced that B n E’s Macka aka ‘Eso‘ was absolutely a metalhead rockstar in his past life.
The Hotel Brunswick was the perfect choice of venue to host Bliss n Eso , it has always had that strange magic stitched into its bones; beer garden charm, coastal looseness, punters wedged in with grins already half-cocked, and that unmistakable sense that if the night goes well enough, tomorrow’s hangover will be filed under “worth it”. Its a venue that doesn’t have a sterile arena distance. No overblown production trying to distract from a lack of pulse. Just a packed Bruns’ crowd, a sweaty stage, a support crew hungry enough to bite chunks out of the early evening, and a headline act who know exactly how to turn a room into a collective lung. And in true Bruns’ Pub tradition – (torrential rain and massive downpours) – it once again carved out a collective memory for all that attended. The crowd, undeterred by the weather, had packed the place out .
ECB Crew had the job of warming up a crowd that, frankly, did not need much thawing. By the time they stepped out, the place already had that Friday-night shimmer: people leaning into the rails, drinks being guarded like sacred artefacts, mates yelling directly into each other’s ears because apparently volume is now a language. ECB Crew took that energy and sharpened it. The set had that grassroots hip-hop feel where the performance lives or dies on momentum, and they kept theirs moving. Tracks were delivered with punch, the call-outs landed cleanly, and by the time they wrapped up, Hotel Brunswick had shifted from “keen crowd waiting for the headliner” to “properly warmed-up room ready to go stupid.” That matters.
They came out with movement, confidence and enough bounce to drag attention away from the bar, which at a pub gig is basically an Olympic-level achievement. Their set had grit without being messy, enthusiasm without slipping into chaos, and the kind of crowd engagement that was earned rather than demanded. They knew when to push, when to let the beat breathe, and when to throw themselves into the moment with the full-body commitment of people who understand support slots are not background music. They are a chance to steal a few new believers before the main event arrives.
By the end of their set, ECB Crew had done exactly what they were there to do. They lifted the room, put hands in the air, and made sure Bliss n Eso were walking into a crowd already primed and sparking. Not bad for the opening shift. Some people clock in and do admin. Others warm up a pub full of humans until the floor starts behaving suspiciously like it has its own pulse.
As soon as the lads took to the stage the audience properly let go. With smiles fixed wide, Jono, aka ‘Bliss‘, Macka, aka Eso and Tarik, aka ‘DJ Izm‘ assumed their positions and if it wasn’t for the fact it rained hard enough to have made Noah nervous the place would have been on fire. The Bruns’ pub is a familiar venue to these guys, Macka has proudly claimed and been adopted as a local, residing in the area for some years now. These three read the memo and completed the mission leaving no hostages in their wake.
There is something wonderfully unpretentious about watching Bliss n Eso in a venue like this. They have the catalogue, the experience and the crowd loyalty to coast if they wanted to, but that was never the feel of the night. From the moment they hit the stage, they performed like they had something to prove, not in a desperate way, but in that seasoned, chest-forward, fully plugged-in way that separates acts who simply remember their own songs from acts who still mean them.
Bliss n Eso have always understood that live hip-hop is not just about technical delivery. The words matter, absolutely, and their lyrical flow still carries that mix of bite, warmth, humour and emotional weight that has made them such a timeless act. But live, it is also about force. Breath. Timing. The spaces between the verses. The call-and-response moments that only work if the crowd trusts you enough to hand their voices over. Playing a home game, that trust was instant.
The set moved with purpose. Big-energy moments were thrown out with the kind of precision that made the crowd erupt on cue, but the night never felt mechanical. There was looseness in the best sense; little exchanges, crowd banter, bodies moving across the stage with instinct rather than choreography, and the sense that the band were feeding off the room as much as the room was feeding off them. Revolutionary concept, really: artists and audience interacting in real time instead of everyone filming ten blurry seconds for people who were not there. Humanity may yet survive.
Vocally, the delivery was sharp and physical. Lines landed cleanly, hooks opened up across the crowd, and the pace rarely sagged. These guys are veterans at knowing how to balance the party atmosphere with the sincerity sitting underneath so many of their songs. They are very good at making a crowd jump without making it feel shallow. One minute the room was all hands, shoulders, shouting and sweat; the next, there was that shift that happens when people stop just reacting and start properly listening. That emotional gear change is part of what gives Bliss n Eso their staying power. The humour, the swagger and the big festival-ready energy are all there, but so is their massive heart. Not the manufactured kind where someone says “this next one means a lot” and everyone politely prepares their concerned face. Actual heart. The kind that comes through in how the songs are delivered, how the crowd sings them back, and how easily the night moves between celebration and reflection without either feeling forced.
The crowd was loud, generous and gloriously unbothered by personal space, which is apparently the final stage of live music devotion. Every big chorus was met with raised arms and full-throated participation. Every beat drop was treated like a public holiday. There were mates with arms around each other, couples dancing badly but sincerely, long-time fans rapping along like they had been waiting all week to empty their lungs, and the occasional punter attempting moves that should probably require council approval.
And that is where the sincerity of the night really sat. For all the noise and movement, for all the big choruses and comic little crowd moments, there was a genuine sense of connection running through it. They pulled the room into the show with them. By the final stretch, the room had that beautiful post-gig wreckage about it: sweaty faces, hoarse voices, abandoned dignity, and the slightly stunned glow of people realising they had just been part of something far bigger than a casual Friday night at the pub. ECB Crew had lit the fuse, Bliss n Eso had turned it into a full-room detonation, and Hotel Brunswick proved once again that it can hold a crowd, a moment and a memory with the best of them.
Bliss n Eso are not still beloved because of nostalgia. That would be too easy, and frankly too lazy, they bring the songs to life with muscle, gratitude and genuine feeling. Friday night at the Bruns was a reminder that great live music does not need to be complicated. Sometimes it just needs a cracking support act, a packed room, a headline crew who still give a damn, and several hundred people willing to lose their voices in public and their dignity as well, like civilisation has briefly been cancelled.
Bliss n Eso delivered. ECB Crew delivered. Hotel Brunswick delivered. The rest of us just tried to keep up. Big ups and huge love fam. Thanks for the memories and remaining humble while being at the top.
GALLERY
