Aston Martin DBS Superleggera review

Here’s your starter for ten. Can you link the following: What Car?, legs eleven and a tractor?

If your answer is Aston Martin, gold stars all round. If it wasn't, the connection is as follows: back in the mid-1920s, Aston Martin had one of its many financial wobbles, closed its premises in Kensington and moved to Feltham. Today, on the site stands a bingo hall, hence that fabled call. And, completely coincidentally, this is but a stone’s throw away from What Car?’s satellite office.

The next piece of the puzzle refers to a chap who made tractors, called David Brown. After yet another bout of bankruptcy in the 1940s, he bought Aston Martin, and it’s his initials 'DB' that have adorned many of its models ever since, including the subject of this review, the Aston Martin DBS Superleggera. You can choose the DBS as a coupé, which is the subject of this review, or Volante convertible, reviewed separately here.

But here’s the thing: while money has often drained from Aston Martin's balance sheet like water down a plughole, one thing that has never deserted the company is love; it's a brand that retains enormous affection, whether you can afford one of its cars or not.

The company’s cyclical financial predicaments, though, have meant that those cars, while achingly gorgeous, have often been, well, underwhelming to drive. Indeed, when a new Aston Martin is launched, you’ll sometimes hear it described as ‘the best Aston Martin ever’, which is invariably a sympathetic way of saying that, in relation to the best sports car rivals, it’s not actually very good.

Here at What Car? we pull no such punches, but if you’re an Aston Martin fan don’t run for the hills; its cars have been getting better and better in recent years. How much better? Well, to employ another bingo-hall catchphrase, the DBS is tickety-boo, but is it as good to drive as the Ferrari 812 Superfast? Read on to find out.

You may recognise the DBS’s basic form, because although Aston Martin counts this as a bespoke model, the DBS is more derivative than disparate from the company’s latest grand tourer (GT), the DB11. There are more than just a few tweaks to justify the price hike, though.

For a start, it has a wider stance, which improves stability and gives it greater road presence. Then there are the aerodynamic accoutrements, such as a larger rear diffuser, which together deliver 180kg of downforce at the car’s top speed of 211mph. The DBS is lighter than the DB11, too. Why? Well, instead of the DB11’s aluminium bodywork, it uses mostly lighter carbonfibre cladding to improve everything from its handling to its performance.

Speaking of which, the 5.2-litre twin-turbocharged V12 petrol engine is also from the DB11, but with the wick turned up to eleventy. It now produces a scarcely believable 715bhp, which, perhaps even more unbelievably, is still some way down on the Ferrari 812 Superfast’s 789bhp. Nevertheless, it's a substantial amount, and it's channelled through a rear-mounted, eight-speed automatic gearbox, which has been beefed up to handle the mutinous 664 lb ft of torque. And all that is deployed to the rear wheels only, through a limited-slip differential.

Now, if you’ve ever driven the DB11, you’re probably thinking that the last thing it needed was more grunt; it can be a little skittish, you see. Yet Aston Martin has set out to make the DBS ultra-useable and driveable, despite its incongruous power. Part of that process involved fitting it with a set of specially developed Pirelli P Zero tyres.

What’s it like? In a world where a Tesla’s inaudible speed is very much the talk of the town, there remains something utterly wonderful about being able to thumb a starting button and listen to the uniquely uniform whirr of a V12 cranking over, before all those twelve cylinders awake and rattle off their salvo of delicious noise. Arguably, this isn’t the most evocative-sounding V12 of all time, but in the same way that to some, Ossetra caviar might not be considered quite as scrumptious as Beluga, if you catch our drift?

At idle it hums sweetly, and through the rest of its rev range the continual changes in tone keep you fascinated. Its range is baritone to tenor, underlined mostly with that soft persuasiveness associated uniquely with V12s. This is interspersed with occasional tangents of hardnosed, mechanical thrash metal, which gives this engine its aural signature.

So, the noise is edifying, but what can we say about its performance? Oddly, you almost expect a bit more savagery in first gear, because, after a momentary pause for the twin turbochargers to add their version of Scotch Bonnet chilli sauce into the performance broth, it builds excitedly but by no means explosively to its 7000rpm crescendo.

Then you repeat the same foot-flat antics in second or third and, suddenly, that monstrous torque is like the enormous gloved hand of a six-foot-plus goalkeeper thumping you in the chest. And watching the numbers building rampantly on the digital speedometer confirms what your senses are telling you: oh yes, this is a truly fast car.

It wholly justifies Aston Martin’s claims of 0-100mph in 6.4sec, or 50-100mph, in fourth gear, in just over 4.0sec. Yet it’s not like a rampant Catherine Wheel that’s about to come loose at the nail; it’s epic but manageable, unlike the 812 Superfast’s explosive motor.

That performance does seem to show up the gearbox’s failings, though. It’s a regular automatic, rather than an 812 Superfast’s quicker-shifting dual-clutch ‘box, and its changes are decidedly slurred and less reactive to your pulls on the change paddles behind the steering wheel. It’s a weakness, certainly, but not a deal-breaker.

Again, that description of usability shines through elsewhere. The DBS, despite its prodigious power, conjures up otherworldly traction from its rear tyres. So much so that you can trust it like a rear-engined Porsche 911 out of corners. So, instead of the traction control button taunting you like some form of kamikaze mode, you can switch it off and play. Yes, we did say that. If the conditions are right, you can play with this car and all its power. You can revel in its almost maternal nature in a way that you simply cannot with other front-engined, rear-wheel-drive cars, the 812 Superfast included.

It looks after you in other ways, too. The steering's delicious weight and accuracy allow you to guide the DBS through bends using just your fingertips, helped by its inherent chassis balance and poise. And, when you need to shed some speed, the well-metered brake pedal and the vast carbon-ceramic brake discs haul you up assuredly. Yes, this is a big GT car that sticks you at the epicentre of the driving experience, and with that comes the feeling of full control.

On the subject of its GT credentials, if you’re thinking that all this handling prowess comes at the expense of ride quality, you’d be wrong. There isn’t a vast amount of wheel travel available, but the springs and adjustable dampers act as one to maintain contact with the road – even if it's a decidedly uneven one – while still letting the DBS almost float along without ever jarring or thumping. For the best compromise of ride and handling, you can even pop the dampers into their midway Sport setting without you, or the car, becoming unsettled. 

It’s blueprinted DB11 in the cockpit of the DBS. That's no bad thing, because the driving position is sound, with ample adjustment that allows all shapes of driver to find their size. Everything moves electrically, because this is no pared-back racer and still very much in the GT mould.

Visibility isn’t great, with rather thick windscreen pillars that hamper your view around tight right-handers and a slim rear screen to boot, but that’s standard issue in a car such as this. It comes with a rear-view camera and front and rear parking sensors to offset these issues when you're parking.

The finish retains the best bits from Aston Martins of old and adds smatterings of modernity, with soft, hand-stitched leathers sitting next to carbonfibre trims. It’s not the most robust interior in places, with the iffy-feeling climate control vents, for example, proving that Aston Martin still has work to do to make it feel properly special.

Like in the DB11, there are plenty of switches sourced from Mercedes, as well as its infotainment system. It’s not the best hardware out there, because the menus take some getting used to and it’s laggy at times, but it’s far better than anything Aston Martin used to have. And you operate the 8.0in screen using a rotary controller and shortcut buttons on the centre console, which is less distracting than Ferrari’s touchscreen system.

Front space in the DBS is fine, with plenty of head and leg room for a couple of tall adults. However, while there are rear seats, even teenagers won’t fancy sitting in them for long.

Those seats will have other uses, though, bearing in mind that the DBS’s boot is rather small. It might fit a small set of golf clubs with the longest clubs removed, but you’re better off slinging them across the rear seats instead. Otherwise, the boot will accommodate a small suitcase or a couple of softer weekend bags, but this isn't a GT with luggage capacity aplenty.

There’s little to say here that you won’t already know. The DBS isn’t cheap to buy and nor will it be cheap to run. But if the prospect of its price or day-to-day running costs has crossed your mind, perhaps it wasn’t really for you in the first place. If you can contemplate the sums involved, you can always take solace in the fact that the DBS is a relative bargain compared to the 812 Superfast.

The level of standard equipment is high, from usability features such as keyless entry and sports seats, to the dynamic appendages including carbon-ceramic brakes and 21in forged lightweight alloy wheels. Nevertheless, you can go crazy decking out your DBS with a range of bespoke features, should you wish.