The X6 M Comp is e ectively a high-rise BMW M5; same 4.4-litre V8 and talented M xDrive all-wheel drive
Every bone in my body wants to resist the BMW X6 – it looks like an armadillo from outer space and flaunts its impracticalities like assets. I splay my knees like a motorcycle pillion in the rear seats, there’s less headroom, rearward visibility is more compromised and 580 litres of luggage space is the smallest on test. It feels like a big car from the driver’s seat, though, more comparable to a 7-series than a 5-series. It’s an indulgent environment, with gorgeous seats featuring plump hexagonal pockets of leather and active bolsters that can be electronically adjusted to fit your frame, plus BMW’s iDrive infotainment that leads the pack with its flexibility, clarity and intuitive interface. Luxury is amped up on our test car with the Ultimate package, bundling fully £18k of extras in a list longer than an Indian restaurant menu: carbon engine cover, panoramic roof, laser lights, massage seats, rear-seat TVs, peshwari naan... total price £133,815.
Two red missile-launching buttons on the steering wheel do the best job here of navigating and organising the multiple performance modes on offer: M1 button for the school run; M2 for fun. Done. It’s a welcome reminder that the X6 M Competition is effectively a highrise BMW M5, with the same 4.4-litre, twin-turbo V8 nestled between the bank of cylinders (like the Porsche and Audi), and talented M xDrive all-wheel drive.
This is an astonishing powertrain, with a high-tech, near-digital signature and an intensity unrivalled here. There’s all the smoothness and midrange muscle you’d expect from a BMW turbo V8 with a torque converter, but with a fury and reach that extends to 7200rpm where the others fall away. At this point, the gearbox, so smooth at an amble, becomes a semi-automatic firearm. Even with 2295kg to tug along, it feels 616bhp strong and endlessly rapid if you find space.
Depth of engineering means it’s far more than just a hot-rodded SUV: plenty of stiffening for powertrain and suspension mounting points, extra bracing for the body, significantly revised chassis. It’s all there to make the big BMW feel precise and connected from behind the wheel,
which you expect after reading the spec, less so the delicacy and feel of a heavy car that must also pamper.
The ride is quite firm (no air option here), but it’s entirely tolerable, and standard anti-roll tech means it actually flows very nicely. A little more steering weight to work against wouldn’t go amiss with a rack this rapid but there’s also a strikingly precise feel to how this car turns in, like you’re on ice skates rather than 295-section Michelin Pilot Sport 4S rubber. BMW talks up ‘extremely high camber values’ for the double-wishbone front end, and it certainly carves your intended line with real crispness. Sometimes its aggressive set-up manifests as more road frequencies seeping into the cabin.
Even in its default setting the all-wheel drive is markedly rear-biased. But in Sport it feels even more extrovert than the Jag, and insists you slacken the stability control. Yet it’s stable and so easy to smear through corners. No other all-wheel drive is so dexterous. ⊲
I... like the X6 M. But I’d prefer the slightly less expensive and more versatile X5 M instead. I just don’t have the front to drive something so extrovert.
I’m far less conflicted about the RS Q8, which you’ll probably know is spun from the same building blocks as the Cayenne and Lamborghini Urus. It’s striking yet less in-your-face than the BMW. It’s also gorgeous inside, with quality like a penthouse suite and deeply cushioned seats that hold you securely about the middle and massage you like a cat without the claws. Plenty of space in the rear, decent boot, cushy rear headrests for instant sedation – what a plush, welcoming cabin.
RS Q8 prices start from £105,300, but ours gets the Vorsprung pack that bumps the price to £123,300 in exchange for an Audi salesperson doing a trolley dash down the options list; sports exhaust, matrix LED headlights, panoramic roof, sports seats, endless driverassistance systems, it’s all there. Those are 23-inch rims and 295-section Continentals. Wow.
Low-speed ride quality is a little knobbly, as large tyres with thin sidewalls would suggest, but the RS is specified with air springs with anti-roll control as standard and it’s actually nicely composed given just a little speed – I’d put the family in this over anything else, which isn’t insignificant given this segment’s all-round appeal. The steering is also better than the Porsche’s, with a more natural freeness to its self-centring action, the feel boosted by a grippy alcantara wheel.
The RS Q8 is the heaviest (2315kg) and longest (5012mm) SUV on test (by a modest amount versus the other Germans, by 257kg/260mm versus the Jaguar). The bulk’s partly explained by this being the only power unit here to include 48-volt mild-hybrid tech, which can coast and recover up to 12kW of energy – admirable, if to little benefit according to the figures.
And while the V8’s fundamentally the same building blocks as the Cayenne GTS Coupe’s, here it makes a much chunkier 592bhp and 590lb ft, placing it second behind the X6 M. There’s a charismatic V8 rumble that’s a welcome surprise given the Audi’s high-tech look, comparable response and flexibility to the Porsche when you’re just cruising about, but a whole new level of explosiveness should you prod harder. The gearbox mapping isn’t quite as intuitive as the Porsche’s, so there are more reasons to default to paddleshifters, but the blend of comfort with short sharp shifts is on-point.
While the RS Q8 can send as much as 85 per cent of its torque to the rear, it has the most neutral-feeling balance of all, something no doubt accentuated by having 295-section rubber all round. It just sticks and mops up all the performance you throw at it, though it turns in very eagerly, contains its bodyroll ably and provides a very secure platform for the driver to work from.
There’s a sense that the chassis aids (rear steering, sport diff, wheel-selective torque control) only really step in towards the limit rather than enhance the drive at saner tempos, but it’s engaging and composed over a demanding road in any conditions, and it’s more nimble than a car this chunky has a right to be. Really it’s pretty comparable to the Porsche, if a little more neutral in feel. And the performance isn’t far removed from the Urus.
In fact, nothing here comes anywhere close to being a dud. All of which gives way to much head-scratching… ⊲