PanterroR
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There's no better way to judge a premium automaker than by its big gran turismo coupes. They fully embody the hopes and dreams of their creators, as well as the romance and athleticism that keep us, the addicted, drooling. This, despite the painful truth that paying more for less car isn't exactly sensible. Even though the smaller 3-series has made the premium sports coupe market its, um, lady, the 6-series is the BMW that most evokes high-class, high-speed European motoring. We've brought together a pair of 6-series cars — a 2008 650i and a 1987 L6 — to better understand how far the 6-series (and, by extension, BMW) has come, and how far it's gone. In each generation, minor facelifts and power bumps have kept the cars current — we've made sure that the cars we've gathered here represent the most recent and the most powerful iterations of their chassis codes, M cars excepted.
The L6 badge on what is essentially a 635CSi with everything (plus extra leather) denotes BMW's short-lived, U.S.-only attempt at a luxury complement to the exotic M6. While the M6 touted extra power, burly road manners, and a limited-slip differential, the L6 was a fully loaded showcase of comfort, coming standard with a 4-speed automatic transmission and sumptuous hides covering every surface of the interior, including the headliner. At $49,500, it cost more than a similarly equipped 7-series and was second only to the M6 on BMW's price list. Our 2008 650i is wildly expensive and trimmed in soft leather, too, but while even the sunvisors are hide-covered, the headliner is cloth. Outfitted with a bevy of premium, sport, and technology options, this deep sea blue 650i stickers at $88,970.
A 90-percent price hike over just two decades might seem excessive, but the entire country club parking lot has fallen victim to similar inflation. Parked at the pro shop alongside the 6-series in 1987 might have been a $39,700 Jaguar XJ-S V-12, a $38,500 Porsche 911, or even a $71,000 Ferrari 328 GTB. Round up the modern versions of that crew and the BMW's price jump is right on par.
Contrary to the opinion of some within the car industry, one needn't possess rectangular glasses, flowing locks, a pinstripe suit, and a little black book of buzzwords like "organic" and "dynamism" to talk about design. It doesn't require a date with the driver's seat, either, so it's more often than not the center of any discussion of the 6-series. Anyone with eyes can declare the E24 (the 1976-1989 6-series designation) a "timeless" design or criticize the E63's (the current model, launched in 2003) "Bangle Butt." It's commonly overlooked that it wasn't even Chris Bangle but Adrian von Hooydonk who penned the new 6, and to our eyes (please, finish reading this before you type obscenities into a forum reply box) the car is a proper, avant-garde evolution of Paul Bracq's original, which was chosen in favor of an outsourced Giugiaro design. Both have the fluid and aggressive bodies that inspired the original car's nickname, "The Shark," though the E63 has a great white's face while the E24's is more hammerhead.
Indeed, the two cars' styling philosophies have more in common than a quick glance would suggest. The E24 6-series is so enduring because it is simple, elegant, and just slightly unbalanced: The large greenhouse almost threatens to overtake the bodywork, and you just can't stop looking at it. It's also hard to stop looking at the E63, but for slightly more perverse reasons. Check out, for example, how many of the car's curves play host to second or even third levels of contours. We've heard that if you stare at the intersection of body lines right above either taillight long enough, you'll risk going blind as your eyes twist in disparate directions. Only time will tell how the latest 6 is remembered, but already cars as straitlaced as the Toyota Camry are borrowing cues. That says something.
Tracing the lineage of these two cabins begins, oddly enough, with their almost identically shaped rear seats — they look as if they'd been pressed in the same mold. Each car has two small dugouts bucketed as deeply as '70s pod chairs. It doesn't matter that most butts would need to be shoehorned into each coupe, as the back seats do little more than hold briefcases and lower the car into four-seater insurance rate brackets. And isn't the point of a big coupe to take up as much space on the road as possible while affording very little of that space to its occupants? Designers call it "intimacy."
Up front, both cars' dashes are essential and simple. In fact, with stereo controls and computer readouts controlled by iDrive, the newer car actually boasts a cleaner layout than the old one, which had a warning-light panel to the left of the steering wheel and a multi-feature onboard computer occupying prime real estate on the center stack. As can be expected from two decades of refinement, comparing materials, seating comfort, and noise levels would be about as fair as comparing these cars on a horsepower-only basis.
To say BMW was concerned about noise levels in the '80s, though, is like saying the band Poison was concerned about respectable haircuts. While the 6-series (and the later E28 5-series sedan with which it shared many components) marked a move toward a higher level of refinement, E24s are still coarse, noisy power tools by today's standards. The best way to describe the driving experience of the 635CSi, even the L6 version, is as a stretched version of the more common E30 3-series, one that's been optimized for highway cruising. The steering is weighty and direct but the wheel itself is thinner in the grip and larger in diameter than the modern BMWs to which we've become accustomed. The original suspension now feels a bit gawky and body roll is prevalent, but the 21-year-old 6-series remains composed at high speed, the straight-six engine smoothly churning out power between the harsh shifts of the ZF four-speed auto. The brake pedal is lifeless for the first inch of travel but the four-wheel discs bite hard and remain steadfast once they get the message. It's a car that's more enjoyable as a triple-digit cruiser than the smaller E30, but certainly less involving when pushed hard. With its substantial girth and soft damping, tight corners don't come all that naturally to this Bimmer, though long autobahn sweepers are likely a non-event.
If the dynamic differences between the 3- and the 6-series are more distinct in the 2008 model year, then those between 6s old and new are borderline startling. In the time it takes for a newborn to evolve into a full-grown man of drinking age, the 6-series has added two cylinders, 1.4 liters of displacement, 178 hp, and 146 lb-ft of torque. Larger cojones have come with a substantial weight increase, though, as the 3814-pound 650i coupe outweighs its former self by 434 pounds despite lightweight aluminum components and composite front fenders. Some of that added mass has helped to create a serene cabin atmosphere that's more isolated from the road, sacrificing some character in the constant pursuit of crowd-pleasing refinement. While the 635CSi requires a full wringing out to extract all 182 hp from its 3.4-liter six, the 650i's power comes on early and effortlessly, then holds a firm grip on one's rib cage right through all six passes through the rev range. A faint bass note flowing through the cabin sounds great, but it can't compare to the feeling you get in the 635CSi; namely, the impression that the motor is right there, riding shotgun.
The 650i is, predictably, far more capable than its 1980s predecessor. Wide, 19-inch wheels mean there's more rubber touching the road, and a stability-control-equipped evolution of BMW's ye olde chassis architecture helps keep the new 6 out of the guardrails. The power is immense and the brakes more than compensate. But as with so many modern cars, the cocoon of progress has disconnected the driver from the "BWWARGH" of the engine under acceleration and the "WAAAA" of the rear tires through a hot corner. A large BMW coupe shouldn't be as focused and sharp as a 3-series, but driving these two 6-series back-to-back makes the modern car feel a bit like a Mercedes, with locomotive-like power and, sadly, locomotive-like feedback.
Like the lead character in Shakespeare's King Richard III the E24 6-series fell from the throne with everything but horsepower. The 6-series is back 178-hp stronger, but without its bristling character. Fortunately for BMW, it has always been the brand of new money — its customers revel in the get-lost-grandpa power and look-at-me styling. But let's hope its hubris doesn't precede another fall from grace. We're too interested in what's to come from BMW's big, brand-defining coupe.
Source: MotiveMagazine. - Motive Vertical: BMW 6-series from E24 to E63
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What a bloody awesome article!!!
Read it, folks, it's worth.
Only 3 months and counting!!! 
