The other day, I was watching Have I Got News For You when they reported that Queen Camilla thinks using fish knives and doing your make-up in public is ‘dreadfully common’. I’m just guessing here, but I reckon you could add performance SUVs to Her Majesty’s ‘no-no’ list, too. They do have more than a whiff of ‘new money’ about them, although this new Audi RS Q8 Performance, in a subdued shade, arguably isn’t as gauche as some – ’some’ being the BMW X6 M. Or the Lamborghini Urus, perhaps, with which the RS Q8 shares more than a smattering of parts.
The regular 600hp RS Q8 continues, with a few styling tweaks inside and out, but they’ve added this new Performance model at the top of the tree. And it’s the most powerful series production, combustion-powered car in Audi’s history. That made me think. These days, is 640hp really ‘Vorsprung durch Technik’ when it’s made by the old-fashioned suck, squeeze, bang, blow technique? Sure, there’s a bit of mild-hybrid assistance in there, but it doesn’t feel like it fits with ‘progress through technology’ in the modern era.
I’m not knocking it for that, though. The Lamborghini Urus SE uses full hybrid assistance to churn out an even mightier 800hp and the Porsche Cayenne Turbo SE Hybrid GT isn’t far behind with 739hp. But they both weigh nearly 2,600kg, which doesn’t feel like true progress, either. The RS Q8 Performance is a mere Caterham-like 2,350kg. Okay, that’s hardly a flyweight, but it does save many pounds elsewhere. The RS Q8 Performance is £135,550, and while that’s not small beer, the Cayenne Turbo SE Hybrid GT is £165,000 and the Urus SE some way north of £200,000. In that respect this RS Q8 Performance is almost a budget buy.
And for £135,000 the RS Q8 Performance comes fully loaded. Unlike its VW Group stable mates, the standard kit list is seemingly endless. The mechanical highlights alone run to rear-wheel steering, active anti-roll bars, 22-inch wheels, air suspension, RS sport differential, RS carbon ceramic brakes, RS sports exhaust, and a delimited top speed of 174mph. Add in luxuries like Matrix LED and laser-beam headlights, extended leather, heated and cooled front seats, and you’ll want for nothing.
Well, except if you like carbon. In which case you can opt for the Carbon Black or Carbon Vorsprung pack, but neither is necessary. Yes, they add some nice bits of carbon fibre here and there, including matt carbon twill inserts on the seats, but the only performance advantage they bring is 23-inch forged wheels that save 5kg a corner. Is that really going to transform the dynamics of a two-plus-tonne SUV? I doubt it. It’s a bit like those road-racing cyclists who spend thousands to save a gram or two, only to park their beer belly on the crossbar.
Naturally, it would all be meaningless if this performance SUV failed to perform, but it doesn’t. The Performance performs. Straight-line pace, for one, is exuberant. I tried a launch control start and, well, it’s more than a little sprightly, as you’d expect for a car with a quoted 0-62mph sprint of 3.6 seconds. What it may lack in true Vorsprung durch Technik it more than makes up for with the anvil-like punch from that wonderfully antiquated 4.0-litre, twin-turbo, hot-vee V8. When you release the brake pedal in launch mode the front tyres fumble momentarily to find grip, but then they bite. And when they do, boy the acceleration is both savage and prolonged.
Put it this way: this may be old-fashioned horsepower, made by explosions and many moving parts, but the resulting acceleration that welds you to the seat is every bit as impressive as it is in the electric Porsche Macan Turbo I drove recently. It’s more a immersive experience, too, partly because of its imperfections. For example, an eight-speed auto ‘box that delivers sledgehammer gear changes in maximum attack mode might seem like a weakness, but not to me. Every extra thump in my torso only added to the thrill. It’s all wonderfully raw.
Talking of raw, or roar, I haven’t mentioned the noise yet. The electric Macan has a noise generator that makes you think you’re sitting in a Space Invaders game; the RS Q8 Performance, on the other hand, has a V8 noise generator that makes you think you're sitting in a top-fuel dragster. They told us during the press conference that a new exhaust reduces backpressure to help achieve the increased output over the standard RS Q8. A happy by-product is it also reduces the muffling effect. That’s not all, though. They’ve reduced the cabin’s sound insulation, purely to get more of that V8 thunder into the cabin. Under full acceleration it’s raucous, hard-edged, with plenty of firework theatrics on the overrun. However, don’t think that the Q8’s long-legged cruising abilities have been engineered away. In the less extreme modes the gear changes are slick and, at motorway speeds on a light throttle, it’s nigh-on as hushed as an S-Class.
It’s not all pantomime, though. There’s a clinical side to this RS Q8 Performance. It recently lapped the Nordschleife in 7:36.698 minutes – the new record time for a production SUV. And, for the record, that’s more than two seconds quicker than the Cayenne Turbo GT. Not that Nürburgring lap times mean much in the real world. Sometimes it’s quite the opposite. You might imagine that to produce a time like that around the ‘Ring the RS Q8 Performance wold ride like a traction engine. It doesn’t, you know. It rides sublimely for the most part.
Obviously, the engineers had many tools at their disposal to achieve this feat. The air springs help, as do the adaptive dampers, but a big part of its pliancy is down to the 48-volt active anti-roll bars. These are disconnected when the car is moving in a straight line and that does wonders for the primary ride. The way the RS Q8 Performance smooths over speed bumps – especially considering the test car was on the optional 23-inchers – is quite remarkable. And even though there’s a bit of side-to-side sway in the softest Comfort mode sometimes, Auto mode (the catch-all setting) stifles that.
That said, it has its limitations. Despite its surprising composure and pliancy it hardly ‘breathes with the road’. On faster roads with undulations, when the suspension has to deal with real inertia, I wrote in my note book that it feels a bit ‘trapped’. What does that mean? Well, it’s like the dampers are locking up immediately after the bump has been and gone, to try and mitigate the effects of considerable mass during the rebound phase. It’s not an uncommon trait in cars of this weight, and here it’s more of an odd sensation than a problem. You certainly don’t feel like the suspension’s about to give up and spit you off the road when you’re pressing on because the RS Q8 is generally composed.
In fact this is a car you can carry some almighty cross-country speed in. So much so that I was struck by how confidence inspiring it is along tight and winding roads. This is a big car, yet I could place it so easily on the road. It really does seem to shrink around you. Partly that’s the visibility, which is surprisingly good for a modern car, but also the steering. It’s hard to believe, but there’s more road feel through the RS Q8’s Alcantara helm than there was in the RS3 I drove at the same launch. Those surface sensations are a nice fillip but the key to the RS Q8’s shrink-wrapping nature is the steering’s intrinsic accuracy. It works something like this: you know where you want to go; you turn the steering wheel to get there; a second or so later, you are exactly where you expected to be. Such a simple process when it’s written out like that, but one so many engineers seem to struggle to achieve. The RS Q8’s engineers have managed it, though.
It’s not all about the front end. There’s a lambent quality to the rear end that makes this great hunk of SUV entertaining as well. Under power out of corners there’s enough movement from the rear to make the driving experience engaging. Mind you, it can be more than just engaging. If, like me, you discover a quiet roundabout somewhere in the Spanish countryside, you can test its ability to go sideways. I didn’t need to refer to my notebook for the result of my experiment because I remember the moment vividly: yes, it goes sideways. A bit childish? Probably. But quite fun? Absolutely.
We drove the RS Q8 on track, too, at the Parcmotor circuit outside Barcelona. It’s fair to say it wasn’t quite as at home out there as the RS3 was. Despite its ‘Ring time, let’s face it, the RS Q8 Performance is no track car and was never meant to be. I’d argue it acquitted itself better than most other two-and-a-bit-tonne SUVs would, though. From what I remember of the Urus Performante launch I covered a few years ago, the much cheaper Audi felt just as accomplished.
What’s really impressive is how well the RS Q8 controls body lean: it’s like a big gimbal in the corners. Those active anti-roll bars must exert some serious force, is all I can say, because when I spoke to the chassis engineer afterwards he said they limit lean to no more than one or two degrees. Ultimately you’re still very aware of the car’s weight, especially at the second-to-last corner. You approach this with some steering angle because the exit of the previous corner feeds into the braking zone. Let’s just say it gives you the collywobbles when the back end goes light and you feel all the inertia wagging the tail. Speaking of braking, there’s never any doubt about the huge carbon-ceramic discs’ abilities. They slash the speed, even if the pedal is a little wooden.
It’s so easy to get lost in talking about the RS Q8 Performance’s dynamics that it’s easy to miss its other innate qualities – ones that are probably as important for many buyers. Like, for instance, the space. Because it’s an enormous car it’ll cart around at least four tall adults without them feeling cramped in any way. The boot is also huge, so no one will have to forward their luggage on, and they’ll feel ensconced in the lap of luxury. Audi has pared back spending on interior quality in some of its more recent models, but inside the RS Q8 the material quality is hugely impressive and it all seems to be screwed together impeccably. I’ve even learned to forgive the double helping of touchscreens because, these days, there are far worse sinners on that score, and in general the infotainment system works well.
As you can probably tell, I am impressed by the RS Q8’s abilities, particularly as a fast, comfortable, finely appointed and well-equipped road car. That said, I’m not in love with it purely because big, fast SUVs just aren’t my bag. Sorry. Funnily enough, I’ve never got on with fish knives and I’m not one for doing my makeup in public, either, so I guess I’m more aligned with the Queen than I realised. But that doesn’t mean I don’t respect the RS Q8 Performance, and by-heck, I really admire the engineers who have found ways to make the impossible, possible. What I will say is that if I were in the market for this type of car, I would definitely have this one over the jarring X6 M. And I’d happily to save the money and have this over a Cayenne or Urus, too.
SPECIFICATION | Audi RS Q8 Performance
Engine: 3996cc V8, twin-turbo
Transmission: Eight-speed auto, all-wheel drive
Power (hp): 640 @ 6,000rpm
Torque (lb ft): 627 @ 2,300-4,500rpm
0-62mph: 3.6 seconds
Top speed: 174mph
Weight: 2,350kg
CO2: 295g/km
MPG: 21.9
Price: £135,550
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