Queen of Cars

Queen's Verdict

Aston Martin Vantage: the velvet hammer

The new-generation Vantage brings roughly 665 twin-turbo horses to the party and dresses every one of them in black tie. The court met her, coupe and Roadster together, on the travertine at Aston Martin Sydney.

Mon 20 July 2026 · Queen of Cars

Aston Martin Vantage: the velvet hammer
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Four crowns delivered in a dinner jacket, with the fifth withheld purely to keep the peace at the DB12's end of the table.

An audience at Aston Martin Sydney

The court called on Aston Martin Sydney and found the new-generation Vantage holding, well, court: a coupe in tungsten grey with a Roadster alongside, both parked on travertine like exhibits in a very fast gallery, and a Ducati tucked in the corner like a footman who arrived on two wheels. Tungsten suits her enormously. It is grey the way a storm front is grey, all pressure and promise, and under the showroom lights the coupe's haunches looked carved rather than merely pressed.

The Vantage has always been the personal Aston, the one you buy with your own heart rather than the family trust, the one you drive yourself to places you probably should not. The new generation takes that idea and roughly doubles the seriousness of intent.

The velvet hammer

The headline act is a twin-turbo V8 breathing out somewhere around 665 horsepower, which is a number that used to belong to hypercars and light aircraft. What matters more is the manner of it. The Vantage delivers her power the way a great hotel delivers room service, instantly, beautifully arranged, and with a flourish at the door. Except quietly is not on the menu. The V8 wakes with a bark you can imagine echoing off that travertine, the sort of noise that makes everyone in the room stand a little straighter.

She remains a proper front-engined sports car in the classic mould, engine ahead of you, drive behind you, steering that actually talks. And the cabin has finally caught up with the tailoring: real switches, clear screens, a genuine sense that someone thought about where your hands fall. The Roadster offers the identical recipe with the sky thrown in, which in Sydney is less an option than a civic duty.

The verdict: four crowns, immaculately dressed

Four crowns, then, and every one of them arrives in a dinner jacket. Why not five? Household diplomacy, purely. The DB12 lives just across the showroom floor, and this court refuses to be the cause of tension at the Aston family table. The Vantage will understand. She is, after all, impeccably brought up.

This is serious money, naturally, but it is money spent on the version of yourself who always takes the long way home. If your dream garage has an Aston-shaped space in it, the court's counsel is simple: manifest the tungsten.

The court rises, the V8 barks its farewell, and somewhere in the corner the Ducati pretends not to be impressed.

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