Under that wild body: wildness
What a startling sight. Three years after its launch, the Lamborghini Urus is still a remarkable car in so many ways. Even without our test car’s many optional extras and its Giallo Auge paint, it’s quite unlike any other SUV you’ll ever clap eyes on. It makes try-hard SVRs, M-badged SUVs and hot AMGs look feeble by comparison, and the aggressive styling channels its inner LM002 with steely abandon.
But how much substance backs up the brutish looks? It is, after all, just another offspring of the mighty VW Group. No matter how much you wrap it up, the Urus is fundamentally based on the same MLB platform as the British Bentayga and German Cayenne before it’s sent to the Sant’Agata finishing school. Is it really anything more than a gussied-up Audi Q7? On this evidence, it very much is. The Rambo Lambo has an angular, sharply creased style all of its own, outside and in, where the obviously
Audi-sourced haptic touchscreens are cleverly integrated into the centre console’s wall of carbonfibre and the cabin is peppered with enough
Italian touches to feel distinctly different. Not necessarily better, but definitely different – and it’s all pleasingly well built.
Take the Anima and Ego driving mode selectors and gearlever: they’re striking and unusual – like a fighter jet’s throttles for selecting afterburners – but they’re actually a pain to use, making you cycle through every setting before you can go back to Strada once you realise that anything more sporting is excessive for pockmarked British roads. The tip-up missile-firing cover on the starter button is pure (primary school) theatre and the novelty quickly wears off, although your mates will giggle the first time they see it.
As with the Bentayga, questions arise over the digital dials; you sense that a department in Wolfsburg plays with graphics and fonts to make identical instrument displays more British, Italian or German, more luxurious or outrageous, to match the price point and marketing intent.
Is today’s luxury transport really reduced to such hard-to-read aggressive typefaces in the name of product differentiation? But we nitpick. This is a surprisingly practical and well-appointed cockpit and there’s plenty of space for family life – and when could we ever say that about a Lamborghini? The rear seats are supremely spacious, although that plunging roofline robs 5cm of headroom compared with the roomiest DBX. The Lambo’s boot is the narrowest here, but all three cars have practically shaped and sized loadbays that won’t disappoint, although the Urus is the only one with a small lip to carry bags over.
Climb in as the door shuts the final inches of its own accord, engage that missile-fire starter button and the Urus erupts with a howl. Considering the Bentayga and Urus share fundamentally the same 3996cc twin-turbocharged V8, you’ve got to marvel at the Italian tuning team’s poetic licence. The Urus develops an extra 99bhp for a rather ludicrous 160bhp-per-litre specific output and it feels every bit as fast as those numbers suggest, with a sharper response than either rival can muster. The quoted 0-62mph time of 3.6sec is absurd for a 2.2-tonne SUV and it’s deeply impressive how easily the Lamborghini transfers that thrust to the road with unstickable traction. Special praise should go to the standard-fit ceramic brake discs that haul off speed with abandon, time and sledgehammer Thank thrust. time again. a fruity That’s 627lb Akrapovic a full ft torque 100lb exhaust mountain ft over for the the for already-fast the aural endless, histrionics DBX, horizon-reeling and and the the pulling unrelentingly power fast. is available It’s the from most just focused 2250rpm. SUV of No this wonder trio and this its car ride is so is correspondingly the stiffest; not unacceptably so, but it patters and rarely settles, busier than either the smooth Aston or cushy Bentley. While some of the car’s fundamentals don’t disguise their blood relationship with the Audi RS Q8, once you start exploring the Urus’s extremes you realise just how different the Italian car is. Flick into Sport mode, never mind track-focused Corsa, and the exhaust note takes on a hard timbre, the percussion section promoted to the front of the orchestra pit, as the V8 pops and bangs extravagantly, the eight-speed automatic clinging to low gears. It’s all terrifically exciting in the playground, but more retiring types may feel a tad embarrassed. Which kind of sums up the vibe of the Urus. All three of these cars are ridiculously fast and remarkably accomplished, yet the Urus feels akin to attaching running spikes to wellington boots, spawning some weirdly aggressive crossbreed. We love its barminess, but it cuts a rather absurd figure on the school run. ⊲