FIRST DRIVE
Aston Martin DB11 V-8
If you’re already up GIRONA, SPAIN around the quarter-million-dollar mark anyway, why not go all out? If you can get 12 cylinders in your Aston Martin, why settle for a V-8? The short answer is that getting behind the wheel makes a very convincing argument that bigger isn’t always better.
Aston Martin introduced the DB11 last year, powered by a twin-turbo 5.2-litre V-12. For 2018, it adds a twin-turbo 4.0-L V-8, sourced from MercedesBenz’s AMG division. Both use an eight-speed automatic transmission. The V-8 is $233,650, while the V-12 is $254,195, but offering an “entry-level” version isn’t the point. Even high-end sports car manufacturers have to keep their fleets within ever-tightening fuel and emissions regulations, and the V-8 is the first step in an overall plan that also includes an all-electric Rapide for 2019.
The two DB11 models are identical in size and appearance, save for some subtle modifications, including unique wheel and headlamp bezel colours, and two fewer hood vents on the eight. But that ends once you hit the road, where Junior and Senior become two very different cars indeed.
The smaller power plant weighs 115 kilograms less than the V-12, but what really matters is that the difference is all up front. While the larger engine hangs out over the front axle, the V-8’s mechanicals are tucked entirely within the wheelbase, lightening the nose. By the numbers, the front-to-rear difference seems minor, with 51 per cent of the car’s weight focused on the front of the V-12 model, and 51 at the rear on the V-8. I drove the two back to back, and the difference is considerable when the road turns twisty.
The electric power steering is tuned for the smaller engine, which is bolted in as low as possible to drop the centre of gravity. The DB11 tucks smartly into curves, so much so that it’s always surprising to step out of it and realize just how long and wide this car is.
The V-12 has a slight rear lateral roll and lighter steering, and in response to complaints from owners and writers, the engineers added stiffer bushings and more steering weight to the V-8. This tightens the car considerably, especially as the steering and suspension become progressively firmer through the GT, Sport, and Sport-Plus driving modes.
The ride is grand-touring comfortable, and while driving on Canada’s winter-heaved roads might change my opinion on that, the DB11 soared smoothly over the few rough Spanish spots I managed to find. For the sake of weight, an air suspension isn’t available.
What I really like about this car is that while it’s stuffed full of electronics like everything else, it doesn’t feel like it. The tail gets squirrelly on hard throttle, and the steering is quick and direct. Although I knew it would do everything in its power to save my butt if I made a mistake on the mountain roads, it never once felt like it was watching over me. It’s refreshing to drive something that actually feels like a machine, and I’m in control of it.
There’s a considerable difference in horsepower, with the V-12 rated at 600 and the V-8 at a mere 503. But the two are well matched for twist: The 12-cylinder cranks out 516 pound-feet of torque at 1,500 rpm, but the V-8 is right on its tail with 513 lb-ft at 2,000 r.p.m., and with a lower curb weight. The V-12 spins to a top speed of 322 km/h to the V-8’s max of 300, but nail both of them off the line and the 12 hits 100 km/h in 4.0 seconds, the V-8 in 3.9. Them’s V-8 bragging rights indeed.
The DB11 is drop-dead gorgeous, and there’s a cool trick to that smoothed-out rear end. Air slides over the roof and into channels hidden in the rear pillars, exiting through a vent in the trunk lid. This creates the desired aero downward force without adding a spoiler. My only complaint is with the wide-set side mirrors: they provide excellent visibility to the rear, but in combination with the front pillar, they can easily block your view of a pedestrian.
The interior confirms Aston Martin’s new-found interest in cabin quality, including headliner stitching that matches that of the seats. There are rear seats, but they are so tight that they’re strictly for show.
Mercedes-Benz supplies the switchgear, which looks good but contains an annoyingly awkward-to-use glass panel with a lot of tapping to perform the functions. Set as much as you can before you hit the button for “Drive.”
Aston Martin chief Andy Palmer describes the 12 as a missile, and the eight as a driver’s car, and he’s on the money with that. The V-12 is always going to be outwardly more impressive, both for what’s under the hood and what you paid for it.
And that’s fine, because it’s certainly no slouch, and I wouldn’t complain if I had one in my driveway. But what the V-8 lacks in cylinders, it more than makes up when it’s time to drive.