5series.net Reviews the BMW M4
A German Muscle Car with DTM Aspirations
I clicked through the gears, rocketing forward, watching the helpless little Mustang GT in my rearview mirror shrink into nothingness as I giggled from the phony exhaust noises piped through the speakers.
You see, the new M4 has a split personality. On one hand, the torque, grunt, and setup of this car screams modern-day muscle car, but as soon as you get to a turn and stomp on those carbon-ceramic brakes, your mind switches back to understanding this is no muscle car.
Last week I got my chance to play around a little with the new M4. I was ecstatic about it because for once in BMW’s M division, I, at 6’4”, could actually fit in it without my head rubbing the roof all the time.
The new M4 has been, let’s say, controversial. BMW purists cried foul with the automaker after decades upon decades of history was shoved away for BMW’s new naming scheme. Out was the M3 coupe, and in was the newly created 4 Series. Personally, I couldn’t care less about the naming convention. I have a problem with BMW having at least 1,000 different models now. If you ever are bored at work and want to count, I dare you to go on BMW’s website and not find at least 25 separate models.
Let’s get back to the M4, though.
It took a while for my turn in the new car since everyone else wanted desperately to drive it. Although I didn’t get my ride until later in the day, the wait did give me a chance to watch everyone else try to manhandle it around the track.
It’s an interesting thing to watch your colleagues try and fail to get the most out of it. I’m not saying I’m a professional racecar driver, but no one seemed to be extracting the real oomph out of the car. I know from anecdotal evidence that it’s miles quicker than the previous generation, and that it should have been out-driving most of the things on the track, but for some unknown reason to me, I kept catching it with underpowered cars. I didn’t figure out why until I stepped into it.
Buttons. Seriously, it all comes down to the plethora of switches that are in this car. There are three modes for the steering, three modes for the springs, three modes for the car and five modes for the harshness of the engine. There’s like a million different permutations for the traction control, and probably another million for the gearbox. That’s too many things you first have to set up before you take it onto a track.
When my friend and I stepped into the car, we spent the first 10 minutes setting the car up for all its harshest and most ferocious settings. The car almost hunkered down. You could get a vague sense that the car was being poised to strike fear in the hearts of its enemies.
Unlike the Hellcat or the Z/28, when rolling toward the pits, there’s absolutely no theater: no burble in the exhaust, no clutch or transmission urging you to go faster, and that’s a bit disappointing. I know, I’m still of the age where I want pantomime with all my cars, but this is supposed to be BMW’s top performer; the benchmark for all other sports coupes. Why isn’t there just something to tell you either audibly or physically that you are in something special?
All that changes when you smash the accelerator.
The entire car’s mood and attitude changes. Gone is the pleasant, compliant ride that only BMW can achieve, and in its place a true track monster emerges. I stayed flat on the gas through the first left-hander, catching up to our CTS-V pace car almost immediately. I dabbed the brakes and it immediately rotated around. Foot back to the floor to correct the oversteer, and it was launched as if it had all-wheel drive.
The acceleration is just staggering. The new twin-turbo inline-six cylinder is a torque monster. It’s just all torque all the time. I was absolutely amazed at how this car just walks away from anything and everything that was following me. The engineers nailed it with this engine.
By this time in the day, I had spent enough time with carbon ceramics that I had a vague sense of how to use them the right way, and let me tell you, the ones on the M4 are superb. They aren’t as squeaky as the ones in the Z/28, but they stop just as hard.
When in its harshest setting and on the track, the gearbox is a true inspiration. There’s actually an audible paddle click when you run through the gears, making it a much more enthusiastic sensation. Where the audio fails is with the engine noise. Yes, I know everyone’s covered it, but I must as well.
The engine fakery isn’t bad — it actually sounds quite good, and that’s the real problem. According to BMW, the engine noise that’s pumped into the cabin through the speakers is the actual engine noise, but toned down to avoid annoying the driver. If that’s the actual noise anyway, why not just throw out the system altogether? Why have a complicated electrical system that can break? It’s a BMW, so the odds are stacked against the system’s long-term reliability. Really, let us just have a real exhaust note.
The BMW M4 really suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder. It doesn’t know if it’s a race car, a luxury car or a muscle car. It honestly could be any one of those, but it’s trying too hard to be all three at the same time, and that’s its flaw. Rather than focus on one or maybe even two things, BMW engineers just threw the world at this car and hoped it would all work. That strategy leads to a confused ride. Is this a fantastic car? Yes, of course. Would it be better if they took some things away? You bet your lederhosen.