First Drive: Mercedes E63 AMG

E63 AMG? No, it can’t have, can it? Oh yes it can – 6.3 snarling, big-block litres of V8 muscle, somehow shoehorned in the space where you can also find a 1.8-litre four-pot.

The old E 55 AMG was no pussycat – 5.4-litres, supercharged, boasting a pretty substantial 476bhp. But the German engineers at Mercedes division AMG don’t know the meaning of ‘that’s enough’.

They’d probably try to increase the effect of the earth’s gravitational pull, given half a chance. So when asked to give the AMG range-topper a little makeover, to head the facelifted range, they went away and, within the constraints of an engineer’s restraint, went mad. People living near the workshop felt the rumblings in the ground, breathed deeply… eventually sighing with relief only when the factory doors rolled back gently, rather than being blown off.

Squinting into the darkness, they would have spotted a beefier E-Class. All the AMG cues are there: the requisite huge exhausts, bulging track and fag paper thin gaps in the wheelarches. Impossibly cool 19-inch titanium-coloured wheels, too. But new, more obvious features are now present, such as the shark’s fin vents on the side of the front bumper (don’t tell them Peugeot already has them on the 407 Coupe). They’ve even fitted badges to the side, proudly shouting ‘6.3 AMG’. All quite exciting, but then it would start up: and children would cower and start to cry. A crack of lightning, a roll of thunder? No, the E-Class, Xenons flickering, exhausts bellowing to life.



Come on, feel the noise
Roll into the sunlight and those children would have long since fled – for the noise continues. This, the rumbling, burbling exhausts that shout to every movement of the throttle, is the first remarkable aspect of the E63. The old car was a bit shy, slightly reticent – but not this beast. The interior underlines this with bulging, bolstered seats, a thick steering wheel and AMG-specific detailing. Even the auto ‘box now has thick metal paddle-shifters behind the steering wheel, while dive into the trip computer and you’ll find means for measuring tyre pressures, oil temperature, battery voltage.

But don’t. Blip the throttle instead. WHAM! The rev counter shoots round in electric response to your right foot. This is the antithesis of Mercedes’ usual long-travel throttles. That’s why your writer, when he drove it first, had the ESP light flashing before he’d even left the car park. Had he been foolish enough to turn it off, you’d still see the cloud of tyre smoke, somewhere in Hampshire. It was so thrilling, he almost failed to notice the brutal, F1-fast brace of automatic gearchanges, the way the noise filters through even with windows shut, the surprisingly accomplished ride.

Right. Straight road. Boot it. Know the terror when you turn on the car stereo and it blasts out the previous night’s mega-loud thrash metal? That’s similar terror felt by pedestrians when I mashed the E 63’s metal throttle pedal for the first time. There’s no word for it other than in-car NASCAR. And the acceleration? Best not mention the expletives I used. This is a monster, a demon of a car, taking off like somebody’s lit a rocket on the roof; by the time the electrified terror has passed, and your senses reemerge, your speed will be enough to stun any magistrate in the land.


Numbers game
514bhp, 464lb/ft, 62mph in 4.5 seconds. The effect: hardcore. The gears change impossibly fast, with a brutality Mercedes would never accept, while the throttle response and rate of acceleration is searing at any speed, legal or otherwise, in the UK. Even on the motorway, people will hear you coming as you press on (but usually, dangerously, still fail to compute your rate of acceleration). The whole experience grabs you and grips you as totally as the monster anchors. You’ll be left breathless. But not, note, because of an intolerable ride. This, you slowly realise, is another startling aspect of the E63: it rides almost as well as an E200K Classic.

Sure, the damping is firm and the tyres will sometimes bump over an expansion joint. But there’s no jostling or banging or crashing, and on a country road it’ll flow with near-exec comfort. It handles too, with quick-fire turn in and flat cornering to differing degrees, depending on what setting you choose for the air suspension. OK, the steering is a bit light and hazy straight-ahead, but for such a big car with such a monstrous power output, it has more delicacy and threadability than you’d ever think.

Verdict
It’s a massively attractive prospect – E-Class practicality and comfort, with the character of a wild engine, cracking gearbox (the same seven-speeder that Mercedes rarely gets to work right) and all-enveloping exhaust noise. The downsides are the £68k list price and 19.8mpg combined economy, but take our word for it; this will get far more admiring glances than the comparable Porsche it’s quicker than. Even better, you can get it in estate form, to reconfigure the dog’s internals, or smash up 1,950 litres of shopping. 63? Sounds like the number of stars out of five we’d award this mad, mad machine.