Bliss n Eso Review

By Tessa Muskett

For one night, UniBar was home to some of Australia’s most entertaining hip hop acts. The Winnie Coopers, hailing from queue, el, dee, land of the sun and shine, were up first. Dressed like overgrown private schoolboys these funksters soon demonstrated why their fans had donned sweatbands and the latest Nikes. They were dripping. As the opening act they nailed the appropriate energy level and lots of crowd interaction helped to get the sizeable crowd of UniBar goers moving. After opening track that eerily familiar sideshow music piped out from the speakers as you anticipated a “roll up, roll up”. Joe asked the crowd, ‘What’s your favourite thing when you go down the sideshow alley at the show when it comes? That’s right, the fairy floss”. The band had a fairy floss machine with them on stage and proceeded to share the vomit inducing pink that is spun sugar. This isn’t to say that their music wasn’t reason enough to be down the front sending out an SOS, Rihanna-style. A circle was opened and the early peakers were there showing us their uninspired yet well-meaning moves. My high school buddy Noni had a song dedicated to her after she claimed the mic for a bit and was praised for her “personality” because “your singing voice isn’t everything,” not my words, the band’s.

Funkoars, consisting of three vocalists and a DJ, served as a change of pace from the band set-up The Winnie Coopers had going. Rude lyrics? Check (but see Deez Nuts for lyrics that will make more than your grandparents cringe and they’re actually useful too; that dude gives great life advice). Pacing back and forth like tigers (or meer cats)? Check. Beer in hand while rapping? Check. Funkoars’ appeal lies in their amiable, guy next door sensibilities, which doesn’t really appeal to me at all. I want my musicians to be superheroes with their capes and ability to blast music from their wrists after getting bitten by a rogue chord. Funkoars have insecurities and at times their affected personas were transparent. Time on stage is a gift where you are able to convey all manner of important ideas to a willing audience. Funkoars got everyone to cheer for a picture of a scantily clad woman.

Bliss N Eso showed what it takes to be at the next level, flying towards outer-space like the figure on the cover of their sophomore record Flying Colours that was for sale, despite it being due for release next Saturday. Their personalities come through in both the music and their stage presences. Charisma is the name of the game. They relied on home town pride to get the crowd cheering by reminding us the other shows they were playing to get our competitive sides riled. They also continually reminded us of the grandeur of the event and how lucky we were so that we would again, “make some noiiii-sssssse!!”. These tactics seemed to work as a way of getting people onside to make them more pliable. Listening to DJ ISM talk of unity I couldn’t help but wonder how his flattery could be taken seriously. His wild statements seemed only fodder enough for beery-headed sheep. Two songs were played from the new album and the crowd loved it as much as you can love a song before you are in love with it.

Eso’s beatboxing was like watching someone parallel park; you thought it was a myth made up to make you feel bad about your lack of skills then you see someone slide into the spot, 60cm from the curb.

There was a short encore that was handled rather elegantly, not making the crowd wait too long but actually egging us on. They were prepared. Bliss N Eso came on blazing, hands flying from crotch to air to chest to air, repeat. The band had the whole place engrossed. Everyone was on the dancefloor, arms pulsing to triple j hits such as the refreshingly meaningful ‘Bullet and a Target’. The band seemed truly stoked to be met with such a psyched reception and were happy to chill and mingle with the fans afterwards.