Aston Martin DBS: Why It Was Worth the Wait

In 2009, as a teenager, I sat on the living-room floor watching Jeremy Clarkson’s Romanian road trip. He described the Aston DBS Volante as “one of the two or three best cars in the world”. This was someone I had watched repeatedly tear cars apart, so hearing him lavish praise on one left me needing to understand why.

Fifteen years later, I am looking at an 8,000-mile, concours-winning hard-top example, holding its £3k transparent fob.

Inside the Aston DBS

The lightweight seats hold you snugly yet feel firm, although they are considerably softer than I had anticipated from a lowered, sharpened DB9 focused more keenly on shaving tenths. The interior is tactile and straightforward to use, while the switchgear is so impeccably preserved that every touch feels slightly worrying, as though I might rub away part of the retro cabin’s charm.

With a nervous smile fixed across my face, I push the fob into the slot in the centre of the dashboard. The familiar driver-display message appears - ‘power, beauty, soul’ - before the 5.9-litre V12 erupts into life with a mighty bark. It is an unforgettable introduction.

Photography: Jonny Fleetwood

Driving the Aston DBS

I set off feeling like James Bond in Casino Royale, alert for Vesper Lynd lying in precisely the right spot in the road to send the DBS into a barrel roll.

She is nowhere to be seen, thankfully, so I focus on the road. The steering has real weight to it, but responds swiftly once you commit and throw the car into a corner. It is not an especially direct point-and-shoot machine, yet it is playful enough.

The 510bhp and 420lb ft on offer deliver 0–62 in 4.3 seconds, while an exceptionally long stretch of autobahn would reveal a vmax beyond 190mph. Everything comes through a wonderfully analogue six-speed Graziano manual gearbox. Its lever is large and chunky, resembling a Power Ranger’s helmet, but it suits this muscular front-engined super GT.

For all its brawn, the DBS uses fascinating materials and clever weight-saving measures. Its bonnet, boot and front wings are carbon fibre - a material that can make achieving a rich paint lustre difficult, although Aston succeeded. The bonded aluminium chassis came from the DB9, but was extensively reworked: the springs, roll bars and dampers were each developed specifically for the DBS. Its huge brakes are carbon ceramic.

The whole experience is intoxicating... the ideal soundtrack for a continental blitz

I had honestly expected the DBS to be intimidating and brutal; instead, it was inviting. The deep, woolly V12 seemed to welcome me in. It felt exactly as a proper GT ought to.

Then it made sense: the DBS is not frightening. It represents grand touring at its finest - effortless yet theatrical, thrilling without being terrifying. Every input receives a positive response from the DBS. You settle into the act of driving, listening as its gentle rumble becomes an angry, high-pitched howl beyond the mid-range. The whole experience is intoxicating... the ideal soundtrack for a continental blitz.

The Aston DBS design

When it is finally time to stop the DBS, I climb out, step back and take in the view. Penned by Marek Reichman, it is among Gaydon’s finest forms. Wherever you look along its curvaceous, sultry profile, there is always something happening. There is no unflattering angle.

At a time when performance-car manufacturers are urgently trying to give their newest models a retro edge - whether by fitting a manual gearbox or reviving natural aspiration - the DBS feels completely genuine. It belongs to an era when combining a large engine and manual shifter with a sensational body was simply the established formula. The wait was worthwhile.