First Drive

Audi engineers acknowledge criticism (mainly from British reviews, they hint) that what the company’s performance cars offer in whipcrack acceleration and visual drama, they tend to concede in steering feel and dynamic responsiveness. To avoid the hallowed 'S' moniker becoming a mere trim level as the brand phases out the charismatic combustion engines that help to compensate for this numbness today, it must be eradicated.

So there is no small weight of expectation upon this latest entrant into the electric Audi Sport line-up, which follows the pioneering – and somewhat experimental – Audi SQ8 E-tron (née E-tron S). 

Where the SQ8 E-tron has a unique tri-motor arrangement – one at the front and two at the rear – the new Audi SQ6 E-tron goes for a more conventional dual-motor set-up, identical to that of the standard Audi Q6 E-tron but retuned for extra punch, to the tune of 510bhp. The simpler layout allows for a more straightforward apportioning of torque forward or rearward as required, and thus more obedient and precisely manageable dynamics, but as the flag-bearer for the ‘new Audi DNA’, the sporty Q6 is charged with not just providing confidence-inspiring handling but also establishing a flair for balance and engagement that, you could argue, has been missing from warmed-up Audis of late. 

The latest iteration of Ingolstadt's Quattro four-wheel drive system has been tuned to send the bulk of its power rearward in ‘dynamic’ driving situations in the mid-range (nobody wants the tail to step out past 80mph, engineers reckon). The results are cornering and accelerative behaviour that feel at least tangibly different from what we’ve come to know of all-paw Audis, if not immediately enhanced – although increased exposure will help us arrive at a definitive conclusion either way. 

Even with the caveat that our experience of the SQ6 E-tron was strictly speed- and time-limited, the migration of power from front to rear was just about discernible, and the renewed contribution of the front axle upon corner exit was tangible, too - with a brief application of the throttle enough to return the wheel to centre as the road straightened. 

Drivetrain developers have worked closely in step with their chassis-fettling counterparts, with a view to engineering a cohesive and feelsome connection between hand and hard-top - and here, too, can you sense the fruits of their labour. There is a subtle viscosity off-centre that lends more of a perceptible sense of steering connection than we’re familiar with from Audis of late – particularly in full-bore Dynamic mode.

And each driving mode brings varying degrees of weight to the steering – synthesised of course, but characterful and convincing in equal measure. There’s a pleasing directness to steering inputs, too, with the straight-ahead ‘dead zone’ just wide enough to avoid skittery nervousness on challenging surfaces or at high speeds, but sufficiently narrow that the SQ6 needn’t be wrestled through tighter, twistier stretches. 

Notable by its absence is any sort of artificial combustion-flavoured soundtrack, à la Abarth 500e and Hyundai Ioniq 5 N, Audi Sport’s serious side shining through as other marques strive to tap into the carefree ethos of ‘accessible’ sports cars and cement their appeal among ardent petrolheads.

The SQ6 E-tron is not a peppy little hot hatch, of course, and its owners are unlikely to be of a snap, crackle and pop disposition in any case, but when the individuality of sporting Audi EVs is at stake, it feels like there need to be elements that clearly mark the SQ6 out as something rather more ‘special’ than the standard car, irrespective of its all-round competence. 

The Mercedes-Benz B200d is the sort of car you might be surprised still exists in 2023: it’s a compact MPV powered by a diesel engine without even a whiff of electrification. A diesel MPV? Is that still legal? Apparently so, and for those prepared to stand against the turning tide, the B200d has plenty to recommend it.

The Mercedes-Benz B-Class range has recently been given a facelift that includes refreshed styling, new kit and a rationalisation of the powertrain line-up. But the concept remains the same: the machine sits on the same platform as the A-Class hatchback, and you can definitely see the family resemblance.

Instead of turning that hatch into a marginally jacked-up compact crossover with rugged cladding, the changes for the B-Class focus on practicality. There’s more head room and extra boot space; proper MPV stuff, basically, even if on its website Mercedes-Benz prefers to use the term ‘Sport Tourer’.

That said, this remains a compact machine and, unlike larger MPVs, it only has five seats and not seven. The rear seats fold in a way that offers reasonable flexibility, but the B200d won’t offer you the true versatility that comes with some van-based models.

The exterior styling changes to the B-Class for this mid-life facelift are minimal. Not that we mind: there wasn’t that much wrong with the previous car, and we’d suspect that compact MPV buyers probably aren’t likely to be making their choices purely on style anyway.

The interior also features a relatively minor makeover, with the biggest focused on the addition of Mercedes-Benz’s latest MBUX infotainment system. On our AMG Line Premium Plus test model, that means a pair of 10.25in screens and a multifunction steering wheel bursting with buttons and (occasionally fiddly) touch controls.

The infotainment has lost the traditional controller in the centre console, but touchscreen is at least responsive, and the myriad of steering wheel controllers enable you to carry out just about any task without taking your hands on the wheel. There’s also a decent voice control function, should you like talking to your car. Regardless of how you interact with it, it’s added extra sheen to a cabin that was already among the best in class.

For this facelift the B-Class powertrain line-up has been rationalised and there are now just two options: the B200, a 161bhp 1.3-litre mild-hybrid petrol, and this 147bhp 2.0 diesel B200d. We’ve tested the former in pre-facelift guise and it holds plenty of appeal.

As you’d expect from a diesel, the B200d has plenty of punchy torque low down, but it offers a smooth power progression to higher speeds and it really is a calm cruiser on motorways and other fast roads. It’s comparatively quiet and refined, although the automatic eight-speed ’box can be a little jerky at lower speeds. You will get that occasional diesel judder. 

With this facelift Mercedes hasn’t fiddled much with the B-Class’s dynamics, which retain a sharpness lacking from higher-riding crossovers of a similar size. It’s not as agile as the A-Class hatch, but it rides and steers well. It has a dynamic that’s rare among small MPVs, although it’s pleasing rather than thrilling. Still, If you’re looking for practicality – which is the key appeal of this sort of car – that’s a fair trade-off.

There aren't a huge amount of rivals in the compact MPV class, but the B200d can holds its own against the likes of the BMW 2 Series Active Tourer. Of the two powertrains that remain, tjhe petrol B200 is likely to be the better option for most buyers – and the more palatable, for some – but for those who regularly do long journeys on faster roads and prioritise efficiency and economy, the diesel will certainly hold appeal.

The first-generation Lexus UX 300e was a plucky newcomer that showed the establishment that there is such a thing as a credible, left-field alternative with the sort of soothing luxury touches you’d expect to find at a wellness retreat.

But despite being the firm’s best-seller last year, it was no poster child for the electric age. A meagre range was coupled with a disappointing infotainment system and a lack of driving involvement.

However, it seems that Lexus has now addressed this, and the result is the 2023 UX 300e. Battery capacity has been increased by 18.5kWh over the previous version's to 72.8kWh, which boosts the claimed range from 196 to 279 WLTP miles. There's also a larger infotainment screen on higher specifications, the bumpers and lights have been nipped and tucked and result in stylistic changes that need a surgeon’s eye to spot, and the suspension has been tuned for a better drive.

Walking towards the sharply styled £47,495 compact SUV (or £57,095 for our range-topping Takumi edition), you remain open to the fact that while it’s part of a fiercely competitive class, it seems so much better for it because it’s pushed Lexus to refine small details by 10% here and 5% there.

Take out the chunky key fob and the door unlocks with a resounding, damped ‘click’. Jump inside and the perceived quality of the leather feels several notches higher than in many of its rivals, the buttons have a reassuring solidity and the electric windows work almost completely silently. It really is a lovely place to sit, and you have to hunt into the footwells or the back seat to find much in the way of material cheapness.

On a full charge, the readout on our test car predicted 273 miles, with an average consumption of 3.5kW per mile – a big improvement on before. If you want to reset the trip computer or check your driving efficiency, the revised Lexus Link infotainment system is quite intuitive to use, once you turn off the irritatingly unnecessary ‘bong’ that sounds when you press it.

Our Takumi-spec car came with the upgraded Pro infotainment system, which brings a 12.3in screen in place of the previous car’s 10.0in display. The graphics are sharp enough and the satellite navigation is easy to use. It's not quite as slick as the BMW iX1’s iDrive, though. It lacks some of the BMW's responsiveness and takes longer than expected to boot up.

What doesn’t take its time is the electric drivetrain. Heating elements under each battery module hasten its warm-up time, so on cold days it’s ready from the get-go.

Once under way, the Lexus drives comfortably and is happiest at moderate speeds. Dynamically, it’s a slight improvement on the last car, but its limited body control hampers it through tight bends at higher speeds.

You’d never call it throttle adjustable - though, if you enter a corner and plant your foot, the UX's electronic torque vectoring will guide the car in towards the apex more than you were expecting. Of course, driving with lead feet causes the range to drop like a lava ball in ice; so you tend to relax and take your time, matching the brief that Lexus clearly wants to fulfil.

The UX will take the kids to school in comfort and leave you feeling unruffled on the other side. In pursuit of that, the air conditioning can even produce water vapour to keep your skin hydrated. With pliant suspension that rough Tarmac struggles to unsettle, light steering and a smooth, unintimidating power delivery, it arguably fulfils the brief of ‘small electric crossover’ better than plenty of its rivals. A Mercedes EQA may be comparably cosseting, but the Lexus has a slightly higher claimed range, and costs £3655 less in basic trim.

Talking of price, Lexus expects mid-level Premium-pack cars, starting at £50,995, to be the best-sellers. This edition would be our pick of the range, with PCP deals coming in at around £700 per month for a car with blindspot monitoring, heated and ventilated seats, a heated steering wheel, an electric bootlid giving access to the EQA-beating 367-litre boot, and a wireless phone charger as standard.

At first glance, then, you could consider the UX 300e to be just a mild update over the last car. But a short time with it has proven that a larger battery, revised suspension and new infotainment system makes an already good small electric SUV one of the best players on the field, because it fulfils the role customers expect, to an exemplary level.

Between now and 2026, when BMW takes the reins, Alpina will make fewer than 6000 cars. But after that, who knows what will happen?

There’s a fair chance that Munich will leverage Buchloe’s reputation for lavish interiors and general bespokery to create a neat stepping stone between M and Rolls-Royce, but whether the cars will continue to be so assiduously honed in mechanical terms is less certain. I wouldn’t bet on it, because with the Bovensiepen family out of the picture, profit will probably take precedence. 

Of those 6000 cars to come, only a tiny portion will be a B5 super-saloon. This model is based on the existing and outgoing M550i but is taken to serious heights in performance and breadth by Alpina's 100 or so engineers. The B5 (historically called the B10) tends to be the flag-bearer for Alpina because it best encapsulates the brand’s approach: crushing quick and delightful to live with but not one to shout about it. 

The current model is no different. Supercar-fast in a straight line but limousine-slick in its ride quality, it doesn’t change direction like BMW's M5 does but has more than good enough body control, adjustability and steering precision that you would happily take the more interesting way home every time. 

Which brings us to the new B5 GT. In many ways, this car is not only a sign-off for Alpina’s fine involvement with the G30 5 Series but a £125k valedictory firework for the company’s six-decade history of building cars based on new BMWs. 

Only 250 will be made, mostly in Touring estate form, and all are already sold. Deliveries will start later this year, but if you’re one of the 80 or so who have optioned the full Lavalina leather interior, you may well be waiting until the end of 2024, as Buchloe’s ‘saddlery’ can’t rush things.

Mechanically, the B5 GT is mostly unchanged from the usual B5 (now no longer offered), but a new intake and an electronic tickle have lifted the output of the twin-turbocharged 4.4-litre petrol V8 from 612bhp to 625bhp, making this the most powerful car in Alpina’s history. Official top speed is 205mph, but unofficially the car hits a true 220mph.

However, what gives this car such outrageous mid-range, real-world performance – outrageous enough for it to feel not at all impotent even on the expanse of an FIA Grade 1 circuit like Zandvoort, where we have it – is the torque. From 3500rpm, this car makes 13% more than the M5 CS, at 627lb ft. That's about as much as Aston's recent DBS 770 Ultimate.

The chassis has also been honed to give the B5 GT a little more edge, but with care taken, says Alpina, to preserve its absorptive qualities. To this end, the spring and damper rates are unchanged (likewise the calibration of the active anti-roll bars and the rear-steering), but the GT gets new bumpstops that improve body control but only in demanding circumstances.

Ride height has been dropped a touch at the back and the torque-split is more rear-biased. In theory, the result is a car subtly more willing to rotate through bends, and while you would be hard pressed to feel the difference even with back-to-back testing, at Zandvoort the B5 GT is playful but without ever being a handful. Amusingly for what you might call a highly cultured machine, you can unstick the tail at will, catching it then being an intuitive act, as the steering is perfectly sped (the B5 GT also gets new struts between the front suspension domes and the bulkhead, for added stiffness and precision).

Helping you along in matters of traction and, if you like, oversteer is the B5 GT’s limited-slip differential. As with the regular B5, it's a purely mechanical, plated affair from motorsport experts Drexler, and is arguably more transparent than the electronically controlled differential found in the an M5, at least during breakaway. 

Equally, carry too much speed and this 1980kg saloon bleeds gently into understeer more readily than an equivalent M car would, so with the B5 GT’s monstrous speed also comes a fundamental benignness and stability. On the road, it will be easy to drive fast. A run down a less-than-beautifully surfaced access track also gave us no concerns about plushness. 

As for how you identify a B5 GT, the gold-bronze wheels are the big giveaway. A little incongruous are the dive planes you will also find at the front, while inside there’s the option of having M5-spec front seats trimmed in Alcantara and the aluminium shift-paddles are finished in Marron Volciano. 

The overall effect is subtle, and the B5 GT is no M5 CS-style extravaganza. However, it’s a fitting end for what will go down as one of the great super-saloons. 

BMW increasing the power output of the straight-six diesel in the X7 (badged xDrive40d) from 335bhp to 347bhp might sound about as necessary as nicking your friend’s last chip when you’ve just ordered a super-size Mac Whopper meal. 

However, the point was not making this humongous SUV a microsecond faster to 62mph but reducing its consumption, that extra 12bhp coming from a new mild-hybrid system – a crankshaft-mounted starter-generator on the eight-speed automatic gearbox, with a small battery to hold its charge.

This comes as part of the mid-life facelift for the largest BMW – or rather, what was the largest BMW until the arrival of the XM. Compared with that overwrought monster, this seven-seater, which focuses much more on refined luxury than aggressive sportiness, looks almost shy and retiring. 

That’s despite it having something of a killer-robot stare, the result of the front light clusters being split as part of a fairly significant redesign. So yes, the most notable element of a BMW design is not, for once, on grilles that make a commercial wok look small – albeit maybe only because the X7 has had those since day one…

As ever, the effect of this is a matter of personal opinion, but there’s no denying that it matches the visual attitude of the M Sport specification that most will order (the alternative is the Excellence, which thankfully isn’t inappropriately named).

Diesel and performance don’t automatically go together in many minds, but my goodness, the X7 xDrive40d pulls like Casanova. Call for it all on a motorway slip road and a relentless flow of torque takes you to 62mph in 5.9sec. In a seven-seat, 5.2-metre-long, 2490kg brick. Thank you very much, 516lb ft of torque – more than in a Ferrari Enzo – from a lowly 1750rpm. 

Even more powerful engines are available in the X7: the ‘B58’ turbo petrol straight six, with 375bhp, up 50bhp thanks to the same 48V measure, badged xDrive40i; and a 4.4-litre twin-turbo petrol V8, still with 523bhp but in new MHEV form now called the M60i (not M50i) xDrive. Surely nobody could truly need more power than this, though? Furthermore, the petrols will be less economical than this diesel, which itself only reaches the mid-30s in terms of MPG, officially and in practice, even if you don’t hold back.

The ‘B57’ also doesn’t sound like a diesel – no clattering or gravelly loudness – and is smooth as marble in its delivery, meaning the only real argument against is future-proofing, what with ULEZs and more.

The smoothness and refinement of the engine really matches the character of the rest of the X7, which is just so comfortable and laid-back, despite this one being an M Sport. Even with 21in wheels on thin-walled tyres, the ride disappoints in neither the primary nor the secondary sense. It’s just all-out comfort, all of the time. Only the roar of its run-flats over coarse surfaces irks.

Meanwhile, the chassis feels as if it had limits beyond what was appropriate to try in such a massive machine in green England. I mean that mostly due to its great width, rather than concerns about stopping, because it has supermini-wheel-sized brake discs grabbed by fist-like calipers.

The directness and sharpness of the steering still surprises – but not as much as how small the car feels once you’ve walked the mile around it and jumped up into the driver’s seat. Far from the bus I assumed it would feel like, it shrinks around you to feel just like a longer and taller 3 Series. It really is quite remarkable, and not something that you would feel in many similarly sizeable SUVs. (The sensation also continues during parking, due to the veritable army of sensors, cameras and graphics at your disposal.)

This is despite the fact that the driving position is very roomy – you would have to be big for a Dutchman to complain about either your head or legs – and seemingly in a different lane from your front passenger. The seats themselves are very comfortable, as they should be, given they have many degrees of electronic adjustment and massaging functions.

Not that I realised the latter fact for a while, as the 14.9in infotainment touchscreen – housed within a single curved span alongside the 12.3in digital instrument display – is verging on information overload. Most people have fewer apps on their iPads, honestly. Don’t read the manual and you could still be finding new features after years of ownership.

Whether that’s a criticism depends largely on your perceptions of luxury. What I wanted was mostly easy – sat-nav, Apple CarPlay, DAB radio – or, in the case of trying to add a new phone, bewildering. Changing the ambient lighting was easy, too: I chose Flamingo mode, with even LED elements in the sunroof contributing to an awesome synthwave night vibe.

It goes without saying that the X7 is comfortable for rear passengers too, and shorter adults wouldn’t feel too aggrieved about having to sit in the (otherwise very large indeed) boot.

I expected to dislike the X7 for embodying the needless excess of large SUVs or find it cumbersome and unpleasant to drive. In the end, neither assumption was correct. The lower 7 Series limousine is probably still the better luxury car in outright terms, but it doesn’t offer the outstanding practicality of the X7. And there’s no reason why the diesel should lose its status as the best-selling variant thereof – not in and of itself, anyway.