Mercedes-AMG EQS 53 review: first electric AMG lands in the UK

The badge is important here, isn’t it?

Correct, as much for what it isn’t as what it is. What this EQS 53 is, is Merc’s first performance EV, the first to wear the prized AMG badge. Audi has obviously done an RS e-tron GT and BMW an M50 version of the i4 (plus there’s the worrying XM concept in the wings), but somehow AMG going electric is the biggest step change. Probably because the brand was for so long synonymous with bellowing V8s. Even turbocharging didn’t stem the eruptive noise.

That’s what it is, so what isn’t it?

A 63. That’s AMG’s ‘proper’ performance badge. This is a mere 53, the one they stick on six cylinder hybrids normally. But here the EQS 53 has more power than any AMG this side of an AMG GT Black Series. 649bhp and 700lb ft of torque.

Will there be a 63 version?

Merc is keeping schtum on that right now. God help us if there is, because you’d have to assume that the 63 will probably get an extra motor on the rear axle for somewhere in the 950bhp region. 

Two things before you get excited about that. Firstly, there’s been no comment from Merc. And secondly, the way things stand with the EQS 53, I’m not sure what benefits a 63 would offer. Well, unless a Tesla Model S Plaid pulled up next to you at a set of lights. Because the 53 does bland speed plenty well enough that I’m not that interested about getting more of it.

What Merc is trying to do here is recreate the old S63 AMG – but there was, however tenuous, a point to that car. It did noise and drama where a standard S-Class didn’t. The EQS 53 doesn’t do noise and drama, it does speed.

But doesn’t it have augmented noise in the cabin?

It does, and you might like the Pod Racer soundtrack, but it’s the kind of thing you file under “show your mates once, then ignore”. There’s nothing honest or natural about it, and nothing partners that noise, no vibration or energy. It’s just a different hifi soundtrack, so you might as well put on a tune you love instead.

But I’m getting a bit ahead of the game here. The basics are these. The EQS isn’t merely an electrified S-Class. That’s going to be BMW's approach with the i7, but the EQS is less chauffeur-orientated than that. It’s not quite as leggy in the back, it’s got a hatchback, and it’s got that 141cm-wide piece of glass up front that you want to marvel at. And it comes as standard on the EQS 53, where lesser versions bill you £7,995 for the privilege.

It is cool, but the realisation that it’s three separate screens is a slight downer, the constant smears of fingerprints are a bigger one and what’s the biggest issue with touchscreens? Correct, being able to brace your hand so you can finger-prod them accurately. And here’s a giant piece of unadulterated glass with fewer finger holds than El Capitan. The functionality, if you’re not travelling anywhere, is dazzling.

But what about the driving?

When we drove the standard EQS, we raved about its road manners, how the silent powertrain blended so well with the soft ride and slippery aero. As you’d expect, the 53 deviates slightly from that. It’s sportier, so more firmly suspended, but the damping is still good, on smooth roads it’s placid and calm. The issue is the 21-inch wheels and 275-width tyres. They get buffeted by rough roads, don’t have the sidewall necessary to soak up punishment. It feels slightly unsettled, which makes you aware of how much mass it’s trying to keep under control. 

But if you’re paying £154,995 for one of these, you came in the knowledge the ride would deteriorate, but the pay-off would be worth it. How does 0-62mph in 3.8secs grab you? A top speed of 155mph? Yeah, about the same figures as an A45 S. It feels faster than that. Probably because it doesn’t appear to have to work for them. You nail it, and it just sodding goes.

And it can cope with the going. The chassis is well balanced, boot it out of a tight corner and it’s neutral, doesn’t slump into understeer. Good work from the standard four-wheel-steering, traction management and torque vectoring there. Apart from the ride – oh, and the vague, wooden, less-than-reassuring brakes – it gets itself along country roads far quicker than is appropriate for a car that’s over 2.1 metres wide.

Is it fun to drive?

I’d had the EQS 53 for a few days before I took it along a good road. I wasn’t looking forward to it – the ride had irritated me slightly, it seemed an unnecessary addition to the range, all drawback rather than benefit over the EQS 450+. But its control and ability did make the cross country experience better than I anticipated. It’s not fun fun, but it is effective and capable and you have easy access to the settings through the knobs and buttons on the lower half of the steering wheel.

Ride aside it still feels together, steering and chassis are harmonious, you have a feel for what’s going on, it does try to engage rather than be aloof and distant. Overall it’s not as low, tight and agile as a Taycan, but vastly better controlled and nicer to steer than a Model S.

How’s the range?

Uh, not good if you thrash down a B-road. Think it dropped below one mile per kWh (mpkWh). Overall I got about 2.7mpkwh from the vast 108kWh battery, which in practice meant an easy drive-how-you-like range of 250 miles and over 280 with a modicum of self-restraint. Merc’s 377-mile claim? Not while employing many of its 649bhp. Those figures are mutually exclusive.

Here's another figure worth talking about: 2,655kg. Like most electric cars it doesn’t feel that heavy because the weight distribution and centre of gravity are good, plus the sleek body means momentum is astonishing when you lift off. At the other end of the scale, recuperation is very powerful if you want it to be. You select that with paddles, but it’s best left to sort it out itself in Intelligent mode. Actually getting a sense of the weight is tricky. Until you have to do an emergency stop.

What impressed you about it?

The 610-litre boot is genuinely massive with huge floorspace, and expands to 1,770 litres. The interior is artful and beautifully executed. Yes, there’s tech overload, but as cabins to spend long periods in go, this is right up there. Well, apart from the seats.

What’s wrong with the seats?

They’ve got no lateral support, which is super-weird in an AMG. You fall out of them when you go round a corner. And they’re too firm as well. Plusher, more enveloping seats, please. And less irritating steering wheel controls. Touch pads and sliders do not work. You have to take your eyes off the road to check your input is having the desired effect, which means you end up entrusting more of the driving to the EQS’s autonomous elements, the radar cruise and lane keep, just so you don’t make a pillock of yourself and run out of lane while seeing if the cruise control got the message about knocking it back a couple of mph. Needing to lean on the self-drive to help you – maybe that’s all part of Merc’s cunning plan.

Overall verdict?

This is not a super saloon in the way we recognise one. It’s a tech palace that happens to get along roads swiftly and capably. At the moment this feels a decade ahead of anything else out there. But tech has a habit of evolving fast. That cabin, the soap-profile bodywork, the glamour of it, this is a car that is interesting, fascinating to use and be around, but not one that’s hugely rewarding to drive. But then who ever bought an S63 because it was fun to drive? Yes it made a good noise, but really it was about the prestige. Snap.