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What's it like to live with an Aston Martin DBX?

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What's it like to live with an Aston Martin DBX? | Top Gear

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Yes, time to get into the nitty-gritty of Aston's £160k SUV

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What's it like to live with an Aston Martin DBX?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Yes, time to get into the nitty-gritty of Aston's £160k SUV

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Yes, time to get into the nitty-gritty of Aston's £160k SUV

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
What's it like to live with an Aston Martin DBX?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
What's it like to live with an Aston Martin DBX?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
What's it like to live with an Aston Martin DBX?

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Yes, time to get into the nitty-gritty of Aston's £160k SUV

# data.attributes.body.value
I know, you’ll have read about the Aston Martin DBX before. But this is different. A test that gets more into the nitty-gritty of what Aston’s new super-SUV is like to live with day-to-day. Here’s a quick recap of the important bits. It costs £158,000 before options (an even huger £195,640 after them in this case), is built on a new all-aluminium platform, uses the same Mercedes-sourced 542bhp 4.0-litre twin turbo V8 as the Vantage and has no trace of hybrid or electric assistance whatsoever. It seats five (but no more), looks very handsome and gets the right sort of attention.

I’m off to the Peak District for a few days. There’s a few reasons for this, the least of which is that we’ve got a group test with the DBX planned and I want to scout some locations. More importantly (certainly as far as family harmony goes), my daughter has a Duke of Edinburgh expedition in the Peaks, so my wife and I have a couple of days to ourselves. With bikes.

The journey up there passes easily, although the DBX has a ferocious thirst. The trip computer tells me it’s doing 21.5mpg on a pretty regular motorway cruise, when a Bentayga on a pretty much identical trip a few weeks later did 24mpg.

As an experience it’s pretty good. It’s fine if you’re by yourself, but with other people on board you notice you have to raise your voice a little. Road noise. And the ride is a fraction busy. It’s not as unruffled and stately as the Bentley, but it can be driven swiftly and smoothly without apparent effort – handy when you’re running late getting to Hathersage.

Now, I’ll talk more about some DBX towbar issues in due course. All I want to point out now is that although the ducktail spoiler looks superb (and it really does), the shaping of the rear, tucked under at the bottom, means the towbar, despite having a long neck, is slightly recessed. As a result, bike handlebars nearly rub against the spoiler. Mountain bikes will not work. I know, I tried.

It was mucky in the Peaks. Dirt doesn’t show much on the £3995 Hyper Red bodywork. Dirt does show on the £995 Oxford Tan carpets inside. But it won’t get on you because like most SUVs these days, the doors also cover the side sills. No mud up the inside of the trouser leg. The seat controls are more logically (and comfortably) sited here than in other Astons (where they’re often on the transmission tunnel), but they’re not the easiest to fathom or nicest to use. Sharp little buttons.

Here’s the outside. Interesting patterns up the flanks due to the vent shapes. Stones can’t come through that gap, you’ll be glad to hear, but the curve of those lower panels does mean the flanks are potentially vulnerable to stones flicked up from the protruding front wheel.

We’re off for a walk. There’s no space in our chosen car park, but flick through the modes and the DBX adapts accordingly. Terrain+ lifts the ride height by 95mm from its lowest position and allows us to sneakily tilt up a verge. Feel a bit guilty about leaving the car like this, but it’s hardly a test of its off-road prowess.

This, on the other hand, was. We’re now a couple of weeks further on, back up in the Peaks for the group test I’d been scouting for on my first visit. It may not look hardcore, and in the grand scheme of winches and solid axles, it isn’t, but the slippery boulders, ledges and pitches of Macclesfield Old Road outside of Buxton did give the DBX a work out.

One it came through with relative ease. Nice stiff chassis meant there were few creaks or rattles inside, and although the stiff-ish springs meant the ride was a bit more rigid than I’d like, I always knew where I was with the car, knew what it was up to and how it was coping.

Tyres are the limitation. With the DBX you have a choice of three, all Pirellis: P Zero, Scorpion Zero or Scorpion Winter. I’d have the Scorpion Zeros. For 99 per cent of regular on and off-road driving they’ll do what you need. Beyond that you need a proper mud-grabber. The more likely scenario is that you’re on wet grass. In which case, cross your fingers and hope. It’s the most challenging surface for any off-roader.

Right, the cabin. There’s quite a bit to talk about here, so we’ll spread it over a few pictures. Basics: driving position and seats are great, so’s the view out (well forward at least, the dropping roofline doesn’t help at the back). It doesn’t feel as big and cumbersome in your hands as it could, and is easy to place on the road.

The main hassle is the central screen. Because you can’t touch it. Well, you can, but it won’t do anything. It has to be controlled through the touchpad you see on the console, or the wheel mounted below that pad. And that’s a hassle. Yes, I know we often have a go at the operation of touchscreens on the move and jabbing the wrong button when you’re jostled, but the option is useful.

Especially with Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. Neither of which work well through the DBX’s set-up. I’ll stop short of saying it’s infuriating to operate, but even after a week I still found it frustrating and outmoded compared with many regular family cars. Waze and podcasts are my two normal measures of system usability. Zooming in on Waze was a palaver, and moving between scrolling menus on Spotify was next to impossible.

The system, like the engine (and more besides) comes from Mercedes, but it’s by no means their most up-to-date. And you can tell. I know it sounds daft, but these days we rely on infotainment so much that it can make or break a car. And this does fundamentally spoil the DBX user experience.

Let’s look for better news. The leather is glorious and imaginatively used. Check out the pinched ridges and brogueing. In places it does appear slightly wrinkled (bottom left of the picture for instance), which initially made me question whether it had been applied properly, but I’m prepared to give Aston the benefit of the doubt and assume they wanted the leather to look natural.

Once again, the key slot doesn’t fit the key properly. It’s the same story in the Vantage and DB11, too. It won’t come flying out, but it could be so much more satisfying.

Lots of buttons here. In the sports cars the Mode buttons are on the steering wheel. Kind of wish they were here as well, as it’s useful to be able to shuttle between the six options from Sport+ through to Terrain+, each one affecting the diffs, adaptive suspension, exhaust, traction, throttle and so on.

Here’s what goes on underneath the console. A phone tray and rather awkward to reach button for the boot release. It’s a useful sized space, but because the DBX doesn’t support induction phone charging, you have to trail a cable down there from the storage bin by your elbow which looks untidy. And if you have that area clad in leather, as this car does, the phone comes flying out quite readily.

Here’s the towbar. The reason I’m holding it is because it doesn’t come whirring out electrically.

No, you have to rummage around under the boot floor for it, and this, in a £160k SUV isn’t really The Done Thing. And no, it’s not a matter of ticking the right box – for whatever reason (packaging under the rear bumper I suspect) Aston can’t offer an electric towbar.

So you end up kneeling on a sack to slot the heavy lump of iron home.

And then you run into the next stumbling block. The towbar slot doesn’t have a cover, so fills with the crud from your off-road excursions. Which means until it’s cleaned out properly, the towbar won’t lock home.

I know I’ve taken a lot of towbar pictures, and equally I’m sure Aston would claim that not many DBXs are specced with a ‘bar, and those that are will only rarely be used. And after all, who wants to tow a grubby trailer? Or a caravan?

But what about your daughter’s horse? Or your boat? Or bikes? It’s also worth knowing that the towing limit is 2.7 tonnes, when a Bentayga or Range Rover will pull 3.5.

The lifestyle side of SUV use is why you have one in the first place, and if it doesn’t do the job it’s supposed to, you’re going to be cross. I was. The towbar solution reeks of afterthought. This is a useful car and needs to work effortlessly. And it doesn’t. From the tricksy infotainment to this towing solution, things take more effort than they should.

Some better news, then. The boot is big. Viewed from this direction if you can’t be bothered to attach the towbar rack for reasons already mentioned, a bike will easily slot in. Just go careful with the parcel shelf, it’s leather clad and lovely and needs to treated gently so it’s not scraped by sharp bits of bike. The seats release electrically, but unlike a Discovery they don’t fold electrically. That’s right, you’re going to have to pull them up and down yourself.

Viewed from the other direction and with the seats in place, after four nights on the moors three DofE rucksacks plus extra kit bags, boots and more all load easily. The floor level is quite high, but hound-loading is eased by buttons that allow you to drop the suspension to access height.

Within ten minutes of joining the M1, none is left awake. The hum of background white noise has done its job. Not long after we need the headlights. They’re fine on dip, but don’t have the matrix technology that is so impressive in most of its rivals, maintaining high beam, except for a patch around the car in front or coming the other way. It’s the same throughout the car. It doesn’t have the latest cutting edge tech and gadgets – wireless phone connectivity, induction charging, remote control phone app and so on. Does this matter? You decide.

I love the way it drives. I really, genuinely do. It responds crisply and precisely without being in any way aggressive. If I was grading it, I’d give the steering an A+, the handling an A, and the ride a B.

And the fuel economy an F. At least the DBX doesn’t draw attention to its consumption. It’s not too obnoxious at start-up and doesn’t bellow through overtakes too aggressively. You might want to work the gears yourself, though. There’s nine of them, and in GT mode choices are sluggish, while in Sport the gears are low and the revs are high.

It was a great way of getting around the Peaks. Tall enough to see over stone walls, light and airy enough to be welcoming on a grey day, and handsome in a way none of its rivals are.

Don’t underestimate how important that is. If people see a Bentayga or an Urus, they want to find fault. They’re bluntly unattractive conspicuous consumers and you’ll notice the looks you get and it might make you uncomfortable. They’re neither handsome nor kind to the polar bears.

The DBX is at least handsome and that gets you off the hook with people appraising you from pavements and other cars. Quite why Bentley and Rolls-Royce have misfired so badly with the looks of their SUVs is a mystery, but does ensure a ready, more style-led audience out there potentially waiting for the DBX. An audience that won’t care a jot about the towbar situation.

But might just care about the engine situation. My daughter’s friends were excited about riding in an Aston Martin for about ten minutes. Then one asked if it was hybrid. She didn’t know a great deal about cars, but did know that hybrid was good and V8 bad. Forget onlookers, if your kids and their friends don’t approve of your car purchase, you’re on sticky ground. Aston needs a plug-in hybrid version, and soon.

So here’s me, pointing at something far away. The fog probably.

Is the DBX a good car? Yes. But it’s not perfect and it doesn’t feel as complete and well-rounded as a Bentley Bentayga – Aston simply doesn’t have the same development resources. So if you’re buying one know that you will get frustrated by the occasional niggle and that kit and tech levels aren’t the same as you’d find in a Merc A-Class or VW Golf. It’s lovely to drive, has more space in the boot and back seats than you expect and is plenty handsome. But a Bentayga or even a Range Rover will give you a smoother ride and greater piece of mind, if that’s what you want.

But who buys a luxury SUV for practicality? It’s a status symbol. And despite its well documented troubles over the last couple of years, the Aston badge and brand counts for a lot.

# data.attributes.body.processed
I know, you’ll have read about the Aston Martin DBX before. But this is different. A test that gets more into the nitty-gritty of what Aston’s new super-SUV is like to live with day-to-day. Here’s a quick recap of the important bits. It costs £158,000 before options (an even huger £195,640 after them in this case), is built on a new all-aluminium platform, uses the same Mercedes-sourced 542bhp 4.0-litre twin turbo V8 as the Vantage and has no trace of hybrid or electric assistance whatsoever. It seats five (but no more), looks very handsome and gets the right sort of attention.

I’m off to the Peak District for a few days. There’s a few reasons for this, the least of which is that we’ve got a group test with the DBX planned and I want to scout some locations. More importantly (certainly as far as family harmony goes), my daughter has a Duke of Edinburgh expedition in the Peaks, so my wife and I have a couple of days to ourselves. With bikes.
The journey up there passes easily, although the DBX has a ferocious thirst. The trip computer tells me it’s doing 21.5mpg on a pretty regular motorway cruise, when a Bentayga on a pretty much identical trip a few weeks later did 24mpg.

As an experience it’s pretty good. It’s fine if you’re by yourself, but with other people on board you notice you have to raise your voice a little. Road noise. And the ride is a fraction busy. It’s not as unruffled and stately as the Bentley, but it can be driven swiftly and smoothly without apparent effort – handy when you’re running late getting to Hathersage.

Now, I’ll talk more about some DBX towbar issues in due course. All I want to point out now is that although the ducktail spoiler looks superb (and it really does), the shaping of the rear, tucked under at the bottom, means the towbar, despite having a long neck, is slightly recessed. As a result, bike handlebars nearly rub against the spoiler. Mountain bikes will not work. I know, I tried.

It was mucky in the Peaks. Dirt doesn’t show much on the £3995 Hyper Red bodywork. Dirt does show on the £995 Oxford Tan carpets inside. But it won’t get on you because like most SUVs these days, the doors also cover the side sills. No mud up the inside of the trouser leg. The seat controls are more logically (and comfortably) sited here than in other Astons (where they’re often on the transmission tunnel), but they’re not the easiest to fathom or nicest to use. Sharp little buttons.

Here’s the outside. Interesting patterns up the flanks due to the vent shapes. Stones can’t come through that gap, you’ll be glad to hear, but the curve of those lower panels does mean the flanks are potentially vulnerable to stones flicked up from the protruding front wheel.

We’re off for a walk. There’s no space in our chosen car park, but flick through the modes and the DBX adapts accordingly. Terrain+ lifts the ride height by 95mm from its lowest position and allows us to sneakily tilt up a verge. Feel a bit guilty about leaving the car like this, but it’s hardly a test of its off-road prowess.

This, on the other hand, was. We’re now a couple of weeks further on, back up in the Peaks for the group test I’d been scouting for on my first visit. It may not look hardcore, and in the grand scheme of winches and solid axles, it isn’t, but the slippery boulders, ledges and pitches of Macclesfield Old Road outside of Buxton did give the DBX a work out.
One it came through with relative ease. Nice stiff chassis meant there were few creaks or rattles inside, and although the stiff-ish springs meant the ride was a bit more rigid than I’d like, I always knew where I was with the car, knew what it was up to and how it was coping.

Tyres are the limitation. With the DBX you have a choice of three, all Pirellis: P Zero, Scorpion Zero or Scorpion Winter. I’d have the Scorpion Zeros. For 99 per cent of regular on and off-road driving they’ll do what you need. Beyond that you need a proper mud-grabber. The more likely scenario is that you’re on wet grass. In which case, cross your fingers and hope. It’s the most challenging surface for any off-roader.

Right, the cabin. There’s quite a bit to talk about here, so we’ll spread it over a few pictures. Basics: driving position and seats are great, so’s the view out (well forward at least, the dropping roofline doesn’t help at the back). It doesn’t feel as big and cumbersome in your hands as it could, and is easy to place on the road.
The main hassle is the central screen. Because you can’t touch it. Well, you can, but it won’t do anything. It has to be controlled through the touchpad you see on the console, or the wheel mounted below that pad. And that’s a hassle. Yes, I know we often have a go at the operation of touchscreens on the move and jabbing the wrong button when you’re jostled, but the option is useful.

Especially with Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. Neither of which work well through the DBX’s set-up. I’ll stop short of saying it’s infuriating to operate, but even after a week I still found it frustrating and outmoded compared with many regular family cars. Waze and podcasts are my two normal measures of system usability. Zooming in on Waze was a palaver, and moving between scrolling menus on Spotify was next to impossible.

The system, like the engine (and more besides) comes from Mercedes, but it’s by no means their most up-to-date. And you can tell. I know it sounds daft, but these days we rely on infotainment so much that it can make or break a car. And this does fundamentally spoil the DBX user experience.

Let’s look for better news. The leather is glorious and imaginatively used. Check out the pinched ridges and brogueing. In places it does appear slightly wrinkled (bottom left of the picture for instance), which initially made me question whether it had been applied properly, but I’m prepared to give Aston the benefit of the doubt and assume they wanted the leather to look natural.

Once again, the key slot doesn’t fit the key properly. It’s the same story in the Vantage and DB11, too. It won’t come flying out, but it could be so much more satisfying.
Lots of buttons here. In the sports cars the Mode buttons are on the steering wheel. Kind of wish they were here as well, as it’s useful to be able to shuttle between the six options from Sport+ through to Terrain+, each one affecting the diffs, adaptive suspension, exhaust, traction, throttle and so on.

Here’s what goes on underneath the console. A phone tray and rather awkward to reach button for the boot release. It’s a useful sized space, but because the DBX doesn’t support induction phone charging, you have to trail a cable down there from the storage bin by your elbow which looks untidy. And if you have that area clad in leather, as this car does, the phone comes flying out quite readily.

Here’s the towbar. The reason I’m holding it is because it doesn’t come whirring out electrically.

No, you have to rummage around under the boot floor for it, and this, in a £160k SUV isn’t really The Done Thing. And no, it’s not a matter of ticking the right box – for whatever reason (packaging under the rear bumper I suspect) Aston can’t offer an electric towbar.

So you end up kneeling on a sack to slot the heavy lump of iron home.

And then you run into the next stumbling block. The towbar slot doesn’t have a cover, so fills with the crud from your off-road excursions. Which means until it’s cleaned out properly, the towbar won’t lock home.

I know I’ve taken a lot of towbar pictures, and equally I’m sure Aston would claim that not many DBXs are specced with a ‘bar, and those that are will only rarely be used. And after all, who wants to tow a grubby trailer? Or a caravan?
But what about your daughter’s horse? Or your boat? Or bikes? It’s also worth knowing that the towing limit is 2.7 tonnes, when a Bentayga or Range Rover will pull 3.5.

The lifestyle side of SUV use is why you have one in the first place, and if it doesn’t do the job it’s supposed to, you’re going to be cross. I was. The towbar solution reeks of afterthought. This is a useful car and needs to work effortlessly. And it doesn’t. From the tricksy infotainment to this towing solution, things take more effort than they should.

Some better news, then. The boot is big. Viewed from this direction if you can’t be bothered to attach the towbar rack for reasons already mentioned, a bike will easily slot in. Just go careful with the parcel shelf, it’s leather clad and lovely and needs to treated gently so it’s not scraped by sharp bits of bike. The seats release electrically, but unlike a Discovery they don’t fold electrically. That’s right, you’re going to have to pull them up and down yourself.

Viewed from the other direction and with the seats in place, after four nights on the moors three DofE rucksacks plus extra kit bags, boots and more all load easily. The floor level is quite high, but hound-loading is eased by buttons that allow you to drop the suspension to access height.
Within ten minutes of joining the M1, none is left awake. The hum of background white noise has done its job. Not long after we need the headlights. They’re fine on dip, but don’t have the matrix technology that is so impressive in most of its rivals, maintaining high beam, except for a patch around the car in front or coming the other way. It’s the same throughout the car. It doesn’t have the latest cutting edge tech and gadgets – wireless phone connectivity, induction charging, remote control phone app and so on. Does this matter? You decide.

I love the way it drives. I really, genuinely do. It responds crisply and precisely without being in any way aggressive. If I was grading it, I’d give the steering an A+, the handling an A, and the ride a B.
And the fuel economy an F. At least the DBX doesn’t draw attention to its consumption. It’s not too obnoxious at start-up and doesn’t bellow through overtakes too aggressively. You might want to work the gears yourself, though. There’s nine of them, and in GT mode choices are sluggish, while in Sport the gears are low and the revs are high.

It was a great way of getting around the Peaks. Tall enough to see over stone walls, light and airy enough to be welcoming on a grey day, and handsome in a way none of its rivals are.

Don’t underestimate how important that is. If people see a Bentayga or an Urus, they want to find fault. They’re bluntly unattractive conspicuous consumers and you’ll notice the looks you get and it might make you uncomfortable. They’re neither handsome nor kind to the polar bears.
The DBX is at least handsome and that gets you off the hook with people appraising you from pavements and other cars. Quite why Bentley and Rolls-Royce have misfired so badly with the looks of their SUVs is a mystery, but does ensure a ready, more style-led audience out there potentially waiting for the DBX. An audience that won’t care a jot about the towbar situation.

But might just care about the engine situation. My daughter’s friends were excited about riding in an Aston Martin for about ten minutes. Then one asked if it was hybrid. She didn’t know a great deal about cars, but did know that hybrid was good and V8 bad. Forget onlookers, if your kids and their friends don’t approve of your car purchase, you’re on sticky ground. Aston needs a plug-in hybrid version, and soon.

So here’s me, pointing at something far away. The fog probably.
Is the DBX a good car? Yes. But it’s not perfect and it doesn’t feel as complete and well-rounded as a Bentley Bentayga – Aston simply doesn’t have the same development resources. So if you’re buying one know that you will get frustrated by the occasional niggle and that kit and tech levels aren’t the same as you’d find in a Merc A-Class or VW Golf. It’s lovely to drive, has more space in the boot and back seats than you expect and is plenty handsome. But a Bentayga or even a Range Rover will give you a smoother ride and greater piece of mind, if that’s what you want.

But who buys a luxury SUV for practicality? It’s a status symbol. And despite its well documented troubles over the last couple of years, the Aston badge and brand counts for a lot.

# data.attributes.field_standfirst
Yes, time to get into the nitty-gritty of Aston's £160k SUV