► We drive the original V8-powered Audi R8
► A 4.2-litre FSI model with an open-gated manual
► Now a modern classic, and a damn good one
Audi in the mid-2000s was riding high on a wave of well-respected and well manufactured road cars as well as several years of endurance racing success.
To keep up the momentum, its engineers got to work crafting the R8 – a supercar that would end up standing the test of time for almost 20 years. It has cemented Audi as a brand that really could take on the sports car establishment… and win.
At a glance
Pros: The right amount of performance; epic noise; tactile manual shift; ride
Cons: Nose is a little light at pace; er… we’re struggling, frankly…
What is it?
A supercar that ended up as a poster on the wall of many a Millennial teenager’s bedroom (like mine) and became the object of some serious desire to those a bit older.
The Mk1 Audi R8 spawned after the Le Mans Concept of 2003, the design study that was intended to distil some of that high-performance greatness achieved in endurance racing into a proper sports car. It was developed in tandem with Lamborghini’s Gallardo but, while the Lambo benefitted from a screaming V10 from day one, the R8 launched with a V8 from the muscular and thuggish B7 RS4.
Audi’s supercar then went on to become a modern-day legend, expanding with a convertible and a V10 version in its first generation. But the original manual V8 coupe arguably remains the most desirable of the first-generation models.
This example is looked after by Audi UK, as part of its heritage fleet of cars. You can read our original review of the R8 right here.
What are the specs?
At the R8’s core is a 4.2-litre naturally-aspirated V8, revving to a lofty (and oh so satisfying) 8250rpm. Like in the B7 RS4, the R8’s engine develops 414bhp and 317lb ft – perfectly good figures for the time, but they do look a little piddly these days. Even so, that allowed a V8-powered R8 to sprint to 62mph in a more than good enough 4.6sec, and onto a top speed of 187mph.
All R8s of this generation came with quattro all-wheel drive, and could be had with either an open-gated six-speed manual (a transmission that arguably helped make the R8 the dream supercar it came to be) or the more controversial ‘R tronic’ sequential transmission.
How does it drive?
The event starts from the moment you turn the key, with that V8 barking just loud enough to jump start the goosebumps. And, after the first few miles, the R8 is remarkably friendly – like pootling around in an A4 that’s been chopped up in the body shop.
A weighty clutch and some force required to change gears through that fabulous manual shifter encourage you to make more of a meal of it, though. Yes, fine, the R8 will behave itself in traffic and around town, but you can tell it doesn’t want to – and it’s waiting very patiently for you to uncork it.
Building up speed as I leave a sleepy Spanish village is my first opportunity to open the taps. But my modern car brain is too hardwired to downshift too many gears, so used to turbocharged performance cars am I that I originally don’t think it’s necessary to drop to third. The engine winds up – a tuneful but quiet growl behind me as I clock around 4000rpm – and I progress forward but, again, the R8 still feels neutered.
‘Okay then, let’s try that again,’ I say to myself approaching a tight right-hander. Snick that metal shifter down to third, swoop past the apex, boot it. The R8 responds, surging with much more enthusiasm as the revs build, my eyes widening as that growl I heard earlier transforms into a melodic howl. 5, 6, 7, 8… I reach for fourth, my grin stretching from cheek to cheek. Just that one dose of hard acceleration and I’m hooked.
I simply can’t believe any of the early criticism this car initially had about it being too quiet. Get this engine in the right rev range and it makes a fabulous noise
The thing is, the R8 isn’t a dauntingly fast car. The power deployed is entirely linear, making it manageable for noobs and giving clarity to the pros. It’s also so well insulated that you can do crazy speeds in it without realising.
Oddly, though, I don’t bother with the sports damper setting. It doesn’t seem to add much to the experience; much like Alpine’s A110, the stock suspension settings that allow a little bit of give mean you can work with the car’s performance more. Sweeping from corner to corner, leaning on the impressively well-sprung ride setup feels natural and fluid.
Any criticisms at all? From my experience, the R8’s weight balance and aerodynamics seem to have the opposite effect of countless other RS cars of the period. While those nose-heavy cars tended to understeer when pressed hard, the R8’s front end feels as if it gets lighter the harder your charging – ironically having the same effect.
What about the interior?
Very mid-2000’s Audi, unsurprisingly. Lots of chunky buttons, plenty of architectural details and yet crammed with plenty of technology. All of your key controls are right there for you to use, including a sports damper setting and one to even manually deploy the rear spoiler.
Clean analogue dials flank a small dot matrix display for key info ahead of you, which is so detailed that it even animates certain warnings. The car bonged that it had no windscreen washer fluid left while we were at the wheel and – instead of just showing an orange light – an animated graphic of jet washers hitting the windscreen played. So over engineered, and yet so cool.
But the star of the show (and not just because of the experience it provides) is that open-gated manual shifter, hewn out of solid metal that feels so good in your hands.
The driving position, even for lankier folk like me, is bang on with plenty of adjustability and just the right amount of fighter pilot-spec cocooning. It’s strictly a two-seater, with a smidge of room behind you to stow a few bits and pieces – and there’s a good-sized frunk that’ll take a couple of soft weekend bags.
Verdict: Audi R8 V8
If Goldilocks was a supercar. Just the right amount of performance, sharpness, usability, visceral thrill and visual drama to make this a fabulous driver’s car. Just as Phil McNamara said in 2007: ‘Ingolstadt has pulled it off – spectacularly.’
The moment I climbed out, I knew I’d probably never drive one again – and that I’ll spend the rest of my days on this Earth yearning to own one. It truly is one of the greats.