Waxing lyrical over a car is to some a sign of a sadly empty life bounded by glossy auto magazines and hopelessly expensive ambitions. However, to say the Aston Martin DB9 is just a car is disingenuous litotes, much like saying Beethoven wrote tunes.
It is a symphony of skill and workmanship, the product of craftsmen who are simply genetically incapable of building anything less than their best. As one of the Aston Martin team put it, “if the people here suddenly disappeared, they simply could not be replaced, even if we looked world wide.”
And that is what Aston Martin is about; the modern “gentleman’s sporting carriage,” understated, not flashily announcing the arrival of the nouveau riche who throw money at expensive toys. The buyers of these pieces of motoring history join an exclusive band of aficionados who have the wherewithal to enjoy build quality, iconic status and a brilliantly thrilling piece of British engineering. Above all, it has those indefinable but instantly recognizable qualities; gravitas and class.
Pushing the V12 up through the 3000 rpm mark the DB9 announces its arrival with a visceral fugue for two pipes and twelve cylinders, a sound of ripping silk. It is felt more than heard and is exhilarating head-turning stuff.
The home of the DB9 in the new Gaydon factory is preternaturally quiet for a car factory and has and atmosphere of dedicated amateurism that belies the extreme professionalism of the builders. The building process is about as hand made as it gets. The spray painting for example — 9 layers and 75 hours to do it — is all done by hand. Customers can have any color and interior combination they like.
The relaxed atmosphere belies the commitment to build-quality behind the marque; 85 percent of the 22,000 Aston Martins ever built are still on the road. Each car is signed off and the name of the engineer displayed discreetly out of public view on a plate under the bonnet.
The basic shape of the DB9 was drawn by Ian Callum — responsible for the design of the DB7 and Aston Martins most successful product.
Design chief, Henrik Fisker’s design that works three dimensionally and from every direction. Whichever angle you view it from the car exudes purity of form and purpose in a way that other sports cars can only hope for.
The long nose, curved waist and bulging feline haunches, the raked roofline and the proportion of roof to body are traditional visual projections of power. The view from the rear — wide track giving a muscular presence on the road — is emphasized by the rear window tapering from top to bottom.
With a drag coefficient of 0.34, Fisker cheerfully concedes that ultra stability at high took priority over a low drag factor. The high speed stability is indeed impressive. As the car strolls through 200 kph, it seems to settle into the road and drives as if flying on rails. Low speed comfort with high speed control is achieved by setting the dampers to allow the springs to absorb the bumps and letting the dampers control the return. Long corners and even slight crosswinds do not shake the car off line and the steering, slightly heavy at low speeds, is comfortingly firm and positive at speed.
The impressive chassis performance is underwritten by stiff body-shell and an ideal 50/50 weight distribution.
Alloy double wishbones and a coil springs over aluminum bodied dampers occupy each corner of the DB9. A massive cast and machined alloy torque tube houses the hugely rigid single-piece carbon-fiber prop shaft that transmits the V12’s 450 horsepower and torque to the rear-mounted gearbox.
The engine sits far back in the chassis with the last two cylinders literally under the bulkhead overhang; combined with the rear mounted gearbox, this places 85 percent of the car’s mass between front and back wheels and helps achieve the ideal 50/50 weight distribution for the DB9’s 1,710kg.
The interior is delicious. Larger than the DB7, the low cabin with its supple and leather envelops the driver. The sensuous blend of Bridge of Weir hide, brushed aluminum and rich wood finishes provides a richly tactile air to the cabin. With the leg room adjusted correctly, the straight-arm driving posture proved good for town work and remarkably un-tiring over a long day. The miniscule rear seat — sufficient for a couple of legless briefcases — justifies the 2+2 tag; just.
The cabin is dominated the central console, constructed from wood and ally and plastic is of the highest quality. Four big buttons control the full automatic mode of the electro-hydraulic gear box, two each side of the atavistic “Start Engine” button.
The gearbox is nearly perfect. On full automatic, the calibration of the gearbox, torque converter and the ECU software in charge are immaculately balanced, resulting in seamless shifts up the 6 gears. One touch on the perky little gear paddles under the steering wheel switches control to the driver. Upshifts are fast and smooth; downshifts are accompanied with an aggressive little blip — programmed into the engine management system — between gears.
The very small flaw that the gearbox exhibited — common to all automatic boxes — is the occasional slight hesitation moving off. Sometimes a decided surge of power demands a quick easing of the right foot. It was never uncontrollable, but the few times it occurred, it was unexpected.
The stopping power of the 355/330mm vented Brembo discs with four-pot calipers easily matches the brute acceleration of the car. With good pedal feel and consistent unswerving braking, hard stops from high speed make you realize the wisdom of buckling in firmly.
The engine gets full marks. A derivative of the superb four-cam V12 engine in the Vanquish, itself an up-rated version of the unit first used in the DB7 Vantage, the DB9’s 5,935cc Cosworth-assembled motor is one of those engines that urge you to use it hard and listen to the music. Ninety kph arrives in 4.8 sec, 160 kph in 10.1 sec. It is the powerful animal fluidity of delivery and the incredible sound it makes that is the real attraction. The 300 kph top speed puts it in the supercar bracket, matching rivals like the 911 Turbo. Supercar the Aston most certainly is, but it is also far more than that. It is part of a heritage of attention quality and care that — certainly in the automotive world — has very nearly gone.
