Mercedes-Benz EQB vs LDV D90

What's the difference?

I really liked the combustion version of this car, the GLB, for its funky style and flexibility and I was pleased to find how easily Mercedes has made the conversion to a fully-electric layout for the EQB.

Despite a tall price, the EQB 350 is a compelling option for those seeking something a bit more luxurious than the Tesla Model Y, something a bit larger than the Volvo XC40 Recharge, and something a bit smaller than the Audi e-tron or the EQC.

The main trade-off for this 350 variant is the loss of the seven-seat layout in favour of more performance. Instead it offers a huge boot, has a sufficient range for city-based buyers, and offers surprising levels of fun, too. 

Just make sure you’ve considered its rivals which may potentially offer more range or features for the same money.

Looking for a cheap, powerful diesel SUV with huge cabin space and a humane third row for adults? The D90 is a really sound offering, especially considering the price of entry for this top-spec diesel which should resonate with Aussies a bit better than the petrol version.

It has plenty of issues that could be ironed out, but they’re all so small and not sale-breaking it’s almost annoying how much better the D90 could be with just a little work. Rivals should be looking over their shoulder for what comes next.

The EQB has a very predictable design in that it doesn't stray from the combustion car’s formula. At all.

The only evidence from the outside this is the electric version is the blanked out grille, and closer observers might notice the rear light bar which cuts across the boot lid is different from the split tail-light design which appears on the combustion car.

Still, to my eyes, the GLB is a cool design with its upright boxy look bucking the curvaceous trend of most EVs, and, indeed, the rest of the Mercedes line-up. 

Its rebellious streak makes it one of the most appealing SUVs in Mercedes’ current range, and it comes with a bit of toughness which is missing from the EQA. 

If nothing else, it’s a completely different look from Tesla’s amorphous Model Y, and this may be enough to appeal to some.

Inside is identical to other Mercedes models which sit on the MFA2 small car platform, immediately setting itself apart with the big high-resolution screens, glitzy ambient lighting, as well as an abundance of chrome and gloss black.

It’s designed to impress from the first time you hop in, and there’s no doubt it does, but it may be a bit over-the-top for some, particularly fans of the more conservative Mercedes designs of eras past.

The chrome in particular becomes a bit of a problem, as it has an annoying habit of catching the reflection of the sun and sending it directly into the driver’s eyes.

It all feels as plush as a circa-$100,000 luxury car should though, with the ‘Artico’ seat trim being one of the better synthetic options on the market, and soft-touch surfaces throughout the cabin selling the Mercedes promise. 

The GLB toughness is even reflected in the chiselled out finishes in the door, dash, and centre console, helping to set it apart from the tamer EQA.

The software is also fast, high resolution, and well presented, which bodes well given the amount of screen real-estate, and the amount of customization is impressive, too.

Again, there are many who will prefer its look and feel to the Apple-store chic of the Tesla Model Y, or the pared back Scandinavian approach of the XC40 Recharge, but also those who won’t. Like many new Mercedes products, it continues to polarise buyers.

Some colleagues I’ve spoken to like the way the D90 looks. To me, it looks like someone gene-spliced a Hyundai Tucson with a SsangYong Rexton in a lab, then grew it in a stew of peptides and this was the result.

What can’t really be communicated in images is how truly massive the D90 is. At over five metres long, two metres wide and almost two metres tall, the D90 is certifiably huge. Given that’s the case then, it’s admittedly almost admirable that only the side profile makes this thing look a little goofy.

I think LDV has done a pretty good job on the front, and the rear is simple but well resolved for a vehicle that rides on a ladder chassis (just take a look at the Pajero Sport for how ladder-chassis rear designs can get… controversial…).

The wheels, garnishes, and LED headlights are all tastefully applied. It’s not ugly… just confronting… size-wise.

Inside shares some familiar characteristics with sister-brand MG. Look from a distance and it’s all quite nice, get in too close and you’ll see where the corners have been cut.

The first thing I don’t like about the interior is the materials. Apart from the wheel they are all pretty cheap and nasty. It’s a sea of hollow plastics and mixed trims. The faux-wood pattern, which is clearly just a print on a plastic resin is particularly gnarly. Reminds me of some Japanese cars from 20 years ago. It might work for the Chinese audience, but that’s not where the market is in Australia.

On the other hand, you could say “well, what do you expect at this price?” and that is true. Everything is here and works, just don’t expect the D90 to be playing alongside the established players when it comes to fit, finish, or material quality.

The huge screen works to finish the dash, but that darned software is so ugly you’ll wish it didn’t. At least all the major touch-points are ergonomically accessible.

This should be the GLB’s calling card. It’s a car with an ideal footprint, not as wide or as long as most mid-size SUVs, whilst also offering a larger cabin and boot.

The big drawback for this variant in particular is the lack of a seven-seat option, as the all-wheel drive requires the under-floor space which is required to give rear occupants legroom. 

It’s a shame, too, because I found the two rear seats in this car’s GLB combustion equivalent to be surprisingly accommodating for even adults.

As a result of these missing seats, though, the full volume can be exploited in the boot, which comes in at a whopping 495 litres.

It’s rivalled by the Model Y, which also has a cavernous boot, although it has a much larger storage area than the Volvo XC40. 

As an added bonus, there is a decent under-floor storage area which has enough space for all your charging cables, although there is no so-called ‘frunk’ with what is normally the engine bay taken up by cooling and auxiliary hardware. 

At first glance there’s so much going on under there, you’d be forgiven for thinking the EQB has an actual engine!

The cabin is also enormous as well as configurable. The EQB has massive rear doors (as it’s designed to be a seven-seater) to make it easy to get in and out of, and once you’re settled in, the amount of space for me (at 182cm) behind my own driving position is very impressive, with ample leg, arm, and headroom.

Rear passengers score the same nice synthetic leather seat and door trim as the front passengers, a bottle holder in each door, as well as two in a flip-out caddy on the drop-down armrest, two nets on the backs of the front seats, dual adjustable air vents, and power outlets on the back of the console. There is also a separate section of the split sunroof to benefit those in the back seat.

Up front the cabin is equally flexible, although it immediately seems odd that the front seats are manually adjustable. Almost unforgivable in a $100,000 car. 

At least the trim is comfortable, and again, the space is configurable for people of all shapes and sizes. 

Storage options include large bins in each door, a split-opening armrest console with USB-C outlets inside, a slide-open area underneath the climate unit, which houses a wireless phone charger and additional power outlets, as well as the usual glove box arrangement. 

Soft trims continue into the doors, although one small annoyance is the excess of chrome trim which has the unfortunate habit of reflecting harsh Australian sun into your eyes if it hits at the wrong angle.

The software is nice and quick, but can be cumbersome and over-complicated to operate at times, particularly when using the centre touchpad, or adjusting the dash with the small touch elements on the wheel. 

It is also notable the Apple CarPlay as-tested only took up a centre portion of the screen, and is not set-up for widescreen mode to take full advantage of the hardware.

Minor complaints aside, though, the EQB follows its combustion GLB twin in having by far one of the most flexible and configurable cabins in its class.

The D90 is as massive on the inside as it is on the outside. I’m talking better space than a minivan, and nothing says that more than the humane third row. At 182cm tall, I not only fit in the rearmost two seats, but I can do so in as much comfort as any other row. It’s staggering. There’s actual airspace for my knees and head back there.

The second row is massive and on rails too, so you can extend the amount of room available to third-rowers – and there’s so much room in the second row, you’ll have space even with the seats moved forward.

My only criticism here is that the giant rear door is far enough forward to make clambering into the third row a little tricky. Once you’re there though there are really no complaints.

The boot is even usable with the third row deployed, with a claimed 343L of space. That should be hatchback-sized, but the measurement is a little deceptive as the space is tall but shallow, meaning it will only allow you to place smaller bags (a few, if you can stack them) with the remaining space.

The boot is otherwise cavernous with a wild 1350L available with the third row stowed flat, or 2382L with the second row stowed. In this configuration, with the front passenger seat slid forward to its furthest position, I was even able to get a 2.4-metre-long benchtop in the back. Truly impressive.

Without buying an actual commercial van then, this could be the cheapest way into such room, especially in a 4x4 bi-turbo diesel SUV. No arguing with that.

Second-row occupants get their own climate control module, USB ports and even a full-sized household power outlet, with more legroom than you could possibly need. My only complaint was that the seat trim seemed a little flat and cheap.

Front occupants get large cupholders in the centre console, a deep armrest box (with no connectivity in it, just a randomly placed DPF cycle switch), pockets in the doors, and an awkward binnacle under the climate controls that houses the single available USB port. My phone didn’t fit in there.

No complaints about leg and headroom in the front either, though, with plenty of adjustability to boot. The driver’s seat offers a commanding view of the road, although it can be a little unsettling to be so far off the ground in corners… more on that in the driving section.

On paper, the seven-seat D90 is immediately quite appealing. At $47,990, it is literally a lot of car for the money. This latest iteration, the bi-turbo diesel, is only available in Executive trim at this price, but you can pinch pennies further by choosing one of the lesser petrol turbo variants.

Regardless, and much like its MG sister brand, LDV is good at making sure that essential spec boxes are ticked.

This includes screens galore as is popular in the Chinese market, including a massive 12-inch multimedia screen and 8.0-inch digital dash.

A screen is only as good as the software that runs on it though, and let me tell you, the D90’s software is not good. A quick flick through the weirdly small menu reveals barebones functionality, terrible resolution and response time, as well as possibly the worst execution of Apple CarPlay I’ve ever seen.

I mean, it doesn’t even use all of that screen real estate! Not only that, but in a recent overhaul to CarPlay, Apple released software to utilise wider displays – so the car’s own software must simply be incapable of supporting it. Inputs also proved laggy, and I had to repeat myself on multiple occasions to get any use out of Siri. Unlike every other car I’ve used, the software in the D90 wouldn’t return to the radio after you hang up or stop talking to Siri. Frustrating.

I’d rather have a far smaller display that actually worked well. The semi-digital dash was functional, although barely did anything that a small dot-matrix display isn’t capable of and had one screen which for my entire week said ‘loading’. I’m still not sure what it was meant to do…

At least it supports Apple CarPlay at all, which is more than could have been said for segment hero, the Toyota LandCruiser.

The D90 does tick some necessary items that are quite good. LED headlights are standard, as are leather seats with eight-way power adjust for the driver, a heated multi-function steering wheel, 19-inch alloy wheels (which still somehow look small on this huge thing), three-zone climate control, eight-speaker audio system, electric tailgate, keyless entry with push-start ignition, a reversing camera, front and rear parking sensors, tyre-pressure monitoring, as well as a fairly substantial safety suite which we’ll explore later in this review.

Great on paper then, the bi-turbo diesel engine is a boon, as is the fact that the D90 rides on a ladder chassis with an electronically-controlled low-range terrain mode for the transmission, too.

You’d expect to pay more – even from Korean and Japanese rivals for this much specification. No matter which way you cut it, the D90 is good value.

While the EQB 350 loses its valuable third-row seats, it gains a much more impressive drivetrain than the lesser EQB 250 variant. 

While that car has a so-so front-motor set-up producing 140kW/385Nm, the top-spec 350 sports a much more capable 215kW/520Nm dual-motor system.

This allows a 0-100km/h sprint time of 6.2 seconds, and while it’s not as fast as the entry-level Tesla Model 3, it’s still impressive for a 2153kg SUV.

The all-wheel drive capability also adds a level of confidence which can’t be matched by a front-drive, more on this in the driving section of this review.

The D90 was initially offered in Australia with a 2.0-litre turbo petrol four-cylinder, but this 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel makes much more sense, both for towing and long-distance touring.

It’s a four-cylinder offering a healthy 160kW/480Nm. You’ll note that’s pretty close to Ford’s similar 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel, which is currently offered in the Everest…

The diesel also gets its own transmission, an eight-speed torque converter automatic with computer-controlled ‘Terrain Selection 4WD’.

This gives the D90 diesel a max towing capacity of 3100kg braked (or 750kg unbraked) with a max payload of 730kg.

Regardless of which version of the EQB is chosen, the SUV has a 66.5kWh lithium-ion battery pack, and in the case of our all-wheel drive 350, this grants it a 360km WLTP-rated driving range between charges.

My car was reporting around 350km of range at or near a full charge, while my week of testing produced a dash-reported consumption figure of just 18.2kWh/100km.

This is surprising for two reasons. Firstly, I subjected the EQB 350 to a significant amount of freeway testing during my time with it, which usually produces worse consumption numbers for EVs, but it actually bested its official 21.0kWh/100km official figure by a decent margin.

Secondly, I’m puzzled to find this car outperformed the smaller and lighter EQA 250 I had on test in 2021 in terms of overall consumption, and by a significant margin. Very odd.

When it comes to charging up, the EQB can be charged at a rate of 100kW on a fast DC charger, for a 10-80 per cent charge time in a claimed 30 minutes. 

On the slower but cheaper-to-install AC standard, the EQB has an 11kW inverter, allowing a convenient ‘slow’ charge time of 4.1 hours. Expect between 25 and 30 hours on a standard wall socket.

The D90 diesel is said to consume 9.1L/100km of diesel on the combined cycle, but ours didn’t score near that with a figure of 12.9L/100km after a week of what I’d consider “combined” testing.

The D90 a big unit, so that number doesn’t seem outrageous, it’s just nowhere near the claim… All D90s have 75-litre fuel tanks.

This is where the 350 version of the EQB shines. This car is a beast to drive with plenty of power available at your right foot, and incredible amounts of traction to match from its torque-vectored all-wheel drive system. 

This lets it be rapid, but not scary, and despite its square and upright body, might surprise you when it comes to carving a few corners.

Like many EVs, the EQB’s weight feels low and centred, but it appears the suspension has been adjusted to remove any bouncy quality, which might come with the additional weight added over the combustion variants, with nearly 500kg of lithium batteries under the floor.

In fact, the ride is also one of the things which impressed me most about the EQB. It even has huge 20-inch AMG wheels, yet it dealt with bumps of all shapes and sizes in an impressive manner, keeping the body under control, and communicating remarkably little in terms of vibration or unpleasantness into the cabin.

The steering offes a nice balance of feel and electrical assistance, a trait which combines with the EQB’s convenient size to make for an easy SUV to park and manoeuvre.

When it comes to the EQB’s traits as an electric car, there are several modes available to alter the experience. 

Using the paddle shifters, there are several regenerative braking settings to choose from. While none of them are a ‘single pedal’ mode, the D- mode is pretty strong, and clearly contributed to the EQB’s surprisingly good energy consumption in my time with the car.

Activating D+ mode, which can be combined with a sporty driving setting, tones down the regenerative setting almost completely and feels as though it unleashes more potential from the potent electric motors. 

While the sportier settings made the 2WD EQA I tested last year feel a little twitchy and prone to wheelspin, the all-wheel drive system keeps this well under control in the larger EQB for impressive acceleration characteristics.

The breadth of this SUV’s ability is perhaps its most impressive attribute. It can feel comfortable and tame around town, with alarming speed and tenacity when attacking the open road should you so desire. 

Sure, it’s not as whiplash-inducing as some of its rivals, particularly the Volvo XC40 Recharge or Tesla Model Y, but for a luxury SUV like this it’s more than what you could ask for. 

The D90 is easier to drive than it looks… to a degree…

It lacks some polish of its more established rivals, which results in a drive experience that isn’t bad, but occasionally frustrating.

The ride somehow manages to be soft and harsh at the same time. It undulates over larger bumps, while transmitting the worst parts of smaller, sharper ones to the cabin. It speaks to a lack of calibration between the suspension and dampers.

That having been said, the D90 masks its ladder chassis underpinnings well, with little of that typical body-on-frame jiggle that some rivals still struggle with.

The drivetrain is good, but a little unruly. As you’d imagine from the figures, there’s more than enough power on tap, but the transmission tends to have a mind of its own.

It will occasionally lurch between gears, pick the wrong gear, and off-the-line will sometimes be delayed before shunting the D90’s bulk forward with a sudden mountain of torque. It doesn’t sound particularly good either, with the diesel surging through the rev range with industrial crudeness.

By the time the D90 has reached cruising speed though, there’s really not much to complain about, with the D90 milling along with plenty of power in reserve for overtaking. The view of the road is commanding, but you really feel the D90’s high centre of gravity in the corners and under heavy braking. The physics of such a large object are undeniable.

I have to say, LDV has done a fantastic job of the D90’s steering, with a quick, light feel that betrays the SUV’s size. It manages to stray on the right side of lightness though, not being so disconnected that you lose a feeling of where the wheels are pointing. No mean feat in something this shape.

Overall then, the D90 isn’t bad to drive and has some genuinely great characteristics, it just also has a litany of small issues that get in the way of it being truly competitive with segment leaders.

The LDV D90 carries a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating as of 2017, and has a fairly comprehensive active safety suite.

Included on the diesel is auto emergency braking (AEB) with front collision warning, lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring, driver-attention alert, traffic-sign recognition, and adaptive cruise control.

Not bad for the price, and nice that there’s nothing optional. Expected items include electronic traction, stability, and brake controls, as well as six airbags.

The curtain airbags do extend to the third row, and there’s the bonus of a reversing camera and a tyre-pressure-monitoring system.

There is a full-size steel spare under the boot floor, and the D90 also gets dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat mounting points.

Mercedes offers a five year and unlimited kilometre warranty, with five years of roadside assist. The high-voltage battery components are also covered by a separate and industry-standard eight-year and 160,000km warranty.

Service intervals are once every 12 months or 25,000km and the service plan costs an average of $440 a year for the life of the warranty which is expensive for an EV, especially considering Polestar offers free servicing for the first five years, and Volvo’s electric offerings are around half the cost over the same period.

LDV covers the D90 with a five-year/130,000km warranty, which is not bad… but falls behind sister brand MG, which offers seven years/unlimited kilometres. At the very least it would be nice to have the unlimited kilometre promise.

Roadside assist is included for the duration of that warranty, but there’s no capped price servicing offered through LDV. The brand gave us indicative pricing of $513.74, $667.15, and $652.64 for the first three annual services. An initial six-monthly 5000km checkup is free.

All D90s need to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, whichever occurs first.