Aston has fixed what needed fixing on its mega-SUV, and left what didn’t alone – the result is still an organ-rearranging speed overload disguised as a leather-clad luxobarge
Has everyone come to terms with the existence of the Aston Martin DBX707 yet? We’re sure there are still a few people out there riled up by the thought of a 697bhp, 2.2-tonne SUV coming from a company that’s best known for its elegant GT cars.
The fact is, though, Aston needs to fund those elegant GT cars somehow, and that means giving the people what they want. And what they want is SUVs. Lots of them. To Aston’s credit, it went all in with the original DBX, developing its own platform for it rather than going down the more cost-effective route of borrowing something from tech partner and stakeholder Mercedes. As a result, it’s always driven in a way that befits its badge, and that only improved with the launch of the more powerful DBX707 in 2022.
Even more to its credit, it’s pretty quickly turned its attention to the biggest criticism the DBX has faced: its interior. The old version looked dated pretty much immediately upon launch, and made do with a crummy infotainment system from an old C-Class that Mercedes had seemingly found lingering on a shelf in Stuttgart, dusted off and put specially back into production for Aston.
The facelift brings the inside in line with the DB12 and updated Vantage, with all-new software sitting within a new 10.25-inch central screen, cleaning up some of the old version’s dated design in the process. The digital cluster has had a rework too.
The anti-screen leagues will be pleased to know that plenty of core functions are still handled by proper buttons, but thankfully, there’s been one big change here: the old car’s naff-looking dashboard buttons for gear selection have been swapped out for a proper shifter in the centre console.
Overall, it’s a vast improvement, although it still takes a bit of acclimatisation to figure out where everything is. Also, if you’re driving with the sun right behind you, you’ll wonder why Aston insisted on filling it with quite so much brightly polished aluminium.
All the materials still feel top-notch, as you’d hope in a car that now starts at £205,000. That said, a Porsche Cayenne’s interior is just as high quality and still more sensibly laid out, and even the priciest version of that starts at £40k less than the 707.
The driving position is spot on, giving you a commanding view forward without ever making you feel like you’re captaining a ship. Rear space offers no complaints, either, despite the DBX’s sloping roof. The new optional 1600w Bowers & Wilkins sound system is a real treat, too.
Oh, the 707 is also now the only DBX available. Aston’s chief vehicle engineer, Andy Tokley, told me that the base 542bhp version didn’t quite offer the level of performance Aston wanted. Could have fooled us.
That’s about it for changes: look veeeery closely and you’ll spot a redesigned rear spoiler, and Aston has fiddled with the calibration of the nine(!)-speed automatic gearbox and three-chamber air suspension, but it’s taken an ‘if it ain’t broke’ approach with the rest of the car.
Figures are, as a result, unchanged: 697bhp (707ps, hence the name) and 664lb ft of torque from AMG’s 4.0-litre twin-turbo V8 make for a 0-62mph dash of 3.1 seconds and a top speed of 193mph. The powertrain isn’t lifted wholesale from Merc – Aston fits different turbos and a shorter final drive to the gearbox. Kerbweight remains a chunky although not horrendous (all things considered) 2245kg. The quoted efficiency figure of 20mpg is remarkably realistic, even if you’re making good use of those huge reserves of power.
Setting off for a cruise down the motorway, it’s hard to see what all the fuss is about. In regular GT mode, everything’s calibrated to be silky smooth. A touch of the throttle sees the car surge forward effortlessly rather than snap aggressively. It’s ruddy fast, but not violently so. The engine is hushed and the ride is supple (to a degree – the 707 I tested rode on vast 23-inch wheels, and they will smash their way over the nastiest of bumps), and the gearbox’s work is near-imperceptible. It just feels like the big, cushiony, luxury SUV it is.
But twist the little bezel surrounding the start/stop button one click to the right into Sport mode, and oh, sweet deity-of-choice. The last time something named 707 gathered pace with this much ferocity, it had four jet engines and was heading down the runway at Heathrow. It’s a brutally rapid car, this, and one that achieves its speed without ever feeling remotely strained.
It’s here that the engine pipes up too, a proper old-school V8 rumble, albeit one lacking that final, super-naughty edge. Using the big wheel-mounted paddles, you can hammer out upshifts rapidly but occasionally find yourself wishing for slightly more immediate downshifts, especially with so many gears to choose from.
You expect a turn of pace like this in a car with the power of two Porsche 718 Cayman Ss, though. What you’re not quite prepared for – even knowing how much work’s gone into the chassis – is how the DBX707 corners. You can pitch it into turns with remarkable speed, and it just grips, stays level, and powers out the other side. Even in a world where we’ve stopped being blindsided by the abilities of fast SUVs, it’s still impressive.
It feels neutral, adjustable, and approachable, even. You can get on the power early and the rear-biased four-wheel drive system just does its thing, never even approaching understeer but never threatening to get too lairy either. Big mid-corner bumps are the only things that seem to make it go a bit skittish. The steering really helps – it’s precise and direct, and there’s even the slightest hint of feedback from the surface below you.
The brakes deserve a mention, too, mainly for their sheer size: standard carbon ceramics, with 390mm discs at the back and enormous 420mm items at the front. Naturally, a car packing this much power and weight needs them, and they do an excellent job, the pedal feeling firm and responsive.
You don’t need a car like the DBX707. I don’t need one. The world doesn’t need one. But people want one, and Aston has delivered with the 707, creating a remarkable ‘screw you’ to the laws of physics that feels like someone somehow merged a Mitsubishi Evo IX with a Learjet. It’s big, expensive and unapologetically brash, but as a feat of engineering, not much else on sale comes close.