Lister: so much more than just a Jag tuner
...and yet completely di erent. Lister has multiple personalities: timewarp vintage sports car builder, wild tuner and EV future-gazer. Our mission: to find out what ties it all together
Lawrence Whittaker is not your typical car company boss. The way the amiable 30-something Lancastrian businessman became head of the 60-something Lister marque was ‘just an accident, really’, he understates, cheerfully. In 2011, his father Andrew bought a ’50s Lister ‘Knobbly’ to restore – or, more accurately, ‘a body and a box of bits’, Lawrence says. They put in a phone call to Brian Lister Engineering, one of the original small group of companies that made up the Lister marque, to ask if they could help source some missing components. ‘They told us they had some parts, if we’d like to come down,’ Whittaker says. They did indeed; a big wooden crate, untouched for years, contained not only the missing parts but also original blueprints, bodywork bucks, jigs and more. In fact, enough to make another Knobbly from scratch, in theory. You can see where this is going…
‘We thought, “Should we really do this?” We’d just started to do well with our company, Warrantywise, and we knew this wouldn’t be a small project,’ he says. But a petrolhead’s imagination is a powerful weapon, and it had already taken hold. Fast-forward the story through a movie-style montage of meetings and deals and, by 2013, they had acquired the Lister portfolio, and secured the blessing of founder Brian Lister. ‘He just asked that we didn’t do anything that could damage the brand,’ Whittaker recalls. As it turned out, so persuasive were the Whittakers that Brian Lister temporarily came out of retirement to put them in touch with four of the original mechanics, now in their 80s and 90s – men with nicknames properly befitting ’50s-era racing mechanics, like Chippy and Curly – to build the first continuation cars, and to train a new generation of apprentices. One of the original crew still builds the cars today, from the original jigs and drawings.
Lister’s car operation now has two bases: its £6m HQ in Blackburn, opened in 2019, and George Lister Engineering in the rural reaches of Cambridgeshire, where the continuation cars are built alongside other small-scale engineering projects. It’s there that we meet Whittaker. ‘Lister has always traded since 1954 – it’s always produced something, it’s never been dormant,’ he says as he shows us around, weaving between shiny, hand-beaten aluminium bodies and tubular chassis. The air is rich with the hot, metallic smell of creation. It’s an atmospheric place to be.
Lister builds six to eight continuation cars a year, with around 10 people involved in the manufacture of each, a mixture of smooth-bodied Costin models and the knobblier Knobbly (you can see how its original nickname stuck). Whittaker hasn’t been down here for a little while, his hands full with the new HQ in the north and running Warrantywise day to day. But he can still identify a bare chassis from a distance at a glance; ‘That one’s a Knobbly; that one’s for a Costin.’
He says: ‘Lead times are 18-24 months. That’s a problem, really – we’d like to speed that up. This isn’t an assembly line, we make everything by hand. We buy in very little. For example, 500 hours go into making each body.’ We see one of the chassis being welded neatly by the youthful Jamie Branch, who’s been with the company around seven months. He’s working from copies of the original drawings. ‘One of the things we found in the box,’ smiles Lawrence.
All those man-hours mean a continuation Lister doesn’t come cheap. A Knobbly is priced from £300,000, available in road or race trim for historic competition, or to a dual-use spec. Original ’50s cars, of which 19 were built and not all remain, are worth a couple of million quid. The cars are ⊲
Four of the original mechanics, now in their 80s and 90s, helped build the first continuation cars, from the original jigs
From flame-spitting F-Types and straight-sixes, Lister aims to evolve into an EV brand
powered by Jaguar straight-sixes, as they were in period, in either E-Type or D-Type specification, depending on buyer budget and intention.
The continuation run is coming to an end, however. At the time of writing, there are five cars remaining to be constructed over the next 12 months, and all are sold. ‘We always planned it to be a finite number,’ Whittaker says. Despite his unbridled passion for the continuations, he candidly admits that they do not make money for Lister. ‘They are a big drain on resources. What we need to do at Lister, what I want to do, is put the brand in the position where we can produce something that’s income-generating; that gets the company into the black, and gives it a good future.’
The first stepping stone in Operation Turn A Profit is Lister’s now solidly established tuning arm, fitting Jaguar F-Types and F-Paces with reworked interiors, tweaked suspension, carbon bodykits, bawdier exhausts and potent engine upgrades, with eye-opening results in the bhp and mph stakes. The Jaguar i-Pace EV was also considered as the basis for a project, but has since been rejected as a business case – it didn’t stack up.
Initially based in Milton Keynes but now incorporated into Lister’s Blackburn centre, Whittaker is keen to emphasise that the tuning operation uses almost exclusively British-sourced components, with only the wheels imported from Italy. The leather hides come from Scotland and interior colour and trim options are endlessly customisable. The 666bhp Stealth , based on the already-rapid F-Pace SVR, has had its launch delayed by the pandemic but promises Lamborghini Urus-baiting performance. Both LFT and Stealth come with a three-year warranty, by virtue of the Warrantywise set-up.
Tuning modern Jaguars to rude power outputs and adding braggado
cious bodykits might not seem a becoming fit for the same marque that turns out the quirkily elegant ’50s racers – but there’s form here. From the ’80s onwards, Lister was owned by Laurence Pierce, whose ultimate (and successful) aim was to take the name racing again. To raise funds, he created the Lister Le Mans, a sledgehammer-spec Jaguar XJS, with a 200mph-plus top speed and a hefty price. So, in some ways, a 208mph, near-700bhp F-Type is rather fitting, and has helped to raise the Lister name’s profile outside of classic-car circles.
Although the LFT and the Stealth begin their lives as Jaguars, Lister is not endorsed by Jaguar or in a business partnership. The two companies remain separate entities, and are content to co-exist at a distance.
While Lawrence Whittaker’s chatty demeanour is entirely noncorporate, there’s a steely resolve beneath it to carry Lister forward. Which involves the most ambitious plan of all: a fresh sports car of Lister’s own design, and the brand’s first new model since the Pierce-era Storm supercar of the ’90s. This new car is planned to revive the Storm name, but this time it won’t have a 7.0-litre V12. Instead, it’s highly likely to be an EV.
‘A new Lister is something we’ve dreamed of from the start,’ Whittaker says. ‘At the end of the day, we’re a car manufacturer rather than a tuner. I think Lister’s a fortunate brand in that tuning cars doesn’t damage its prestige, but I think it would if we were to stop producing things altogether. The tuning cars are great, and we’re able to make some money with them [Lister is now in its second profitable year]. But it’s a comparatively small profit. For me, it’s all about getting Lister to a point where it’s selfsustaining rather than a company that I have to plough money into.’
After the Stealth, Whittaker says he plans to turn down the tuning side of the business, and instead concentrate on a range of new, fully electric models. From flame-spitting F-Types and straight-six Knobblies, his ambition is for Lister to evolve into an EV specialist. ‘Look at what Rivian is ⊲
achieving – we should be open to exploring the same avenues,’ he says. ‘If we can’t sell cars with combustion engines from 2035, that could be where the future lies for small British manufacturers.’
To make such a paradigm shift, Lister will need a development and production partner. ‘I have to be careful about how much I say, but we’re in talks with a major manufacturer,’ Whittaker says. ‘You can’t do it on your own. Morgan has a partnership with BMW, for example, and Aston Martin with Mercedes.’ He’s not interested in making a rebodied version of an existing car from a larger manufacturer, however. Instead a Lister will be a Lister.
‘We’re not looking to make cars in high volume but to make, for example, 100 quality EVs a year. Every Lister, from the Knobbly to the Storm, has been a great car. The last thing I want to be is the first person who made a rubbish one! But it’s hard when you’re doing it with your own money.’
Whittaker’s strategy thus far has been to support Lister solely with funding from Warrantywise, with no debts or loans, shareholders or investors, to ensure that the company is both on a stable financial footing and agile enough to change plans without being beholden to board-level decisions. He’s open to changing this approach, however, in the future.
‘It may be, if this takes off, that I open Lister up to investment. If you buy a Storm at £250,000, for example, giving the opportunity to add another £250k and have a stake in the company.’
While that’s the survival and expansion plan for the future, the continuation cars still give today’s Lister the authenticity and marketing power of a direct line to its evocative heritage. Before we leave the Cambridgeshire site, we have to drive a Knobbly.
Remember that pivotal box of bits? Those bits became this car – it’s the restoration project that begat every subsequent continuation car. Finished in Lister’s traditional green and yellow livery, 324 JTD’s humpy body is fantastically low-lying. The characteristic wheelarches from which it takes its nickname are almost the shape’s tallest point, at hip height.
It’s not sculpturally curvaceous like a contemporary D-Type or an Aston Martin DBR1. But it has a race-ready, don’t-mess stance of its own. The top of the tiny driver’s door swings upwards to reveal a broad sill. Scoot across it and you find yourself snuggled low in the chassis, between the sill and the tall transmission tunnel, shoulders enveloped by a low wraparound ⊲
The characteristic wheelarches are almost the body’s highest point, at hip-height
My head pokes into the fresh air above the swooping headrest buttress
loop of wind-deflecting Perspex. Ahead of you is a thin-rimmed wooden wheel, and an amazing view. Either side of the square bonnet bulge that keeps a lid on the straight-six, the wheelarches rise like humps of the Loch Ness Monster. Behind you, there’s little but fresh air. My head pokes out above the swooping, buttressed headrest, its height perhaps better suited to five-foot-tall Archie Scott Brown, Lister’s heroically talented driver of the ’50s. Continuation Listers can be spec’d with extra rollover protection but there’s nothing here that might besmirch this car’s glorious lines.
It sounds glorious, too. The D-Type-spec straight-six idles smoothly (it’s on modern recreations of the original Weber carbs) and pulls away without fuss, via the long-travel but light clutch pedal (copiously drilled for weight-saving, naturally – the Knobbly weighs around 900kg all in). Being a racing engine, it’s happiest being exercised, and after trundling carefully through the villages surrounding the Lister works, it needs a good blip every so often to make sure we don’t foul the plugs. Good job Lister has understanding neighbours. It’s quite loud.
A thick chassis member bisects the brake and throttle pedals, so you choose which side your right ankle feels most comfortable on and stick with it. Like the clutch, the steering is surprisingly light and, at normal road speeds at least, you quickly feel at one with the Lister. Its narrow width enables you to place it wherever you like on the road. The verges receding behind you meet in the sole, central mirror. It’s a tiny round portal, mounted high on an armature – again, neatly drilled for lightness.
You can’t help but revel in the directness of the controls, the giddying sense of a car that feels alive, and the knowledge that you’re on a public road in a car essentially the same as those Moss and friends drove to glory all those years ago. You’ll most likely also be getting very hot. Heat quickly soaks from the firewall and transmission tunnel into the aluminium panels around you. It’s toastier still for photographer Alex Tapley, crammed into the narrow passenger side, with the dual side-exhausts running through the sill next to his leg.
It’s hard not to be intoxicated by the Lister’s raw appeal (and I’m sure that’s not just the heat and the straight-six’s fumes clouding my judgement). Lister retains the rights to the Knobbly name and, prior to its shift to an
EV strategy for the future, had been considering a new spiritual successor model. It would have been built at the same George Lister Engineering site as the continuation cars, and potentially powered by a Chevrolet V8.
‘To make that car now would be easy; to come up with a simple chassis, a crate engine and a stripped-out cockpit,’ explains Whittaker. ‘I’m sure we’d sell some to diehard fans. But that’s not where I want to take Lister. To have a major manufacturer on board, lending us technology, rather than doing something cottage-industry – that’s exciting. I want it to be something we can look back on and be really proud of.’
After the Storm, an electric Knobbly would be a logical next step – ‘perhaps an open-topped version of that car’, Whittaker says. Beyond that, he’s open to exploring more mainstream cars, talking of a desire to create a Tesla Model S competitor, perhaps, or a higher-riding model if customers’ tastes continue to run to SUVs. But the success of the Storm project will dictate what happens next.
Translating the brand’s character into an all-new EV will be Whittakerera Lister’s greatest challenge yet. Not your typical car boss, and not your average car brand; it’s fitting that this most quirky and varied of British sports car makers has an equally singular future ahead.