2004 Gallardo Cpe * Only 7k Miles * Egear * Pearl Yellow * Fresh Service!! on 2040-cars

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Watch an Aventador, Viper and LFA play the songs of their people

Our friends at Road & Track recently stopped by Cars and Coffee in Irvine, California, with the 2013 SRT Viper and found themselves a place to park between a Lamborghini Aventador and a Lexus LFA. Those machines might as well be the three musketeers of ludicrous exhaust notes, and rather than keep those 24 raging cylinders muffled, R&T set about conducting an orchestra of internal combustion. On seeing these three lined up, we were more than prepared to call the Viper victorious when it came to tickling our ear drums, but the latest domestic V10 sounds down right civilized in this company.
If we're picking favorites, we have to say the LFA takes the cake. There's something about the noise of a street-legal V10 that can wrap it's tachometer all the way to 9,000 rpm that turns our knees to quivering dollops of jelly. Check out the clip below for a listen. We shouldn't need to tell you to get frisky with the volume.

2015 Lamborghini Huracan LP 610-4 Review

For seven years, Lamborghini sold the Gallardo alongside the Audi R8. And despite sharing more with the Audi than most Italians would like to admit, the Gallardo was a true Lamborghini. Meanwhile the Audi R8 was every bit the stoic German. How did the Gallardo do it? Emotional distance. As cliche as it sounds, the Lamborghini felt more temperamental, although not always in a good way. That fiery disposition made it salacious at mere idle and a baying brute at the limit. The Gallardo's successor, the Huracan, incredibly is even closer to the R8 under the skin, but is galaxies apart from the Audi in terms of impression and intent. The R8 already has a reputation as an everyday supercar, faster than a speeding bullet, able to carry small groceries in a single trunk. With the Huracan, we wanted to find out if it offers the same benefits without dampening that scalding Italian attitude. That difference from old to new starts with subtlety: the Huracan's "dynamic wedge" shape doesn't boast; there isn't a single clingy component demanding your attention. The package fits together so well that you can't just look at one thing, you have to look at everything. There are details atop details, from the Y-shaped LED daytime lamps to the side glass that tucks into the body like an alien canopy. The designers worked to build in enough downforce that the Huracan wouldn't need active or moving aerodynamic devices. So whereas the Gallardo Superleggera looked good with a wing, putting such spoilage on a non-competition Huracan should incur one of those NHTSA-sized, $14,000-a-day fines. There are some hitches to just getting in and driving. There's no reflexive ease to the start and transmission procedures. We always need to remind ourselves of the steps to the dance and "Oh, that's right, pull this for Reverse." Lamborghini changed the shape of the Audi buttons lining the waterfall console, but it looks too close to the A4. The Italians also carried over that funky two-step process of pushing a button and turning a knob to control fan speed. The Huracan ditches Audi's stalks on the steering column by placing buttons on the wheel. The result is fiddly, but okay. It's a fine office, though. The cabin trim feels like eight different shades of Black Hole, and you sit so close to the ground that Lamborghini should offer a bucket-and-pulley system on the options list. The seats are firm and supportive where they need to be, and comfortable everywhere.

2015 Lamborghini Aventador LP 700-4 Roadster Review

"Lamborghini Murcielago." That's what I would tell anyone who asked what my favorite car was. Yes, there were easier cars to drive than the wailing wraith from Sant'Agata Bolgnese, and that was partly why I liked it so. It was impossible to see out the back – reversing was easiest done with the door open, sitting on the sill. My head banged the door frame when I checked traffic on the left. The seat made my butt hurt. The cabin ergonomics were based on a design language that humans haven't yet translated. It boiled over in stop-and-go traffic. It was big. Yet it drove like nothing else, with the instant zig-zag reflexes of a mako designed in The Matrix. The Murcielago's thrills weren't laid out on the ground, you had to dig for them with your bare hands. And that's what made it outstanding. When I first drove the Aventador at its launch in Rome, I spent the day blasting around the circuit at Vallelunga. It was so easy to drive – "too easy by half," as Jeremy Clarkson would later say of it – viciously quick, unholy fun, and very good. But it was a little too easy to drive. Which is why the Murcielago remained my favorite car, ever. Until two weeks ago. The Aventador came when the rough-diamond Gallardo was Lamborghini's in-house reference for ease-of-use. But now we have the fire-and-forget Huracan. Having driven one after the other, and on the context of LA streets instead of the smooth and open landscape of Vallelunga or Laguna Seca, I now see the Aventador for what it truly is: the representation of the bull that's on the Lamborghini badge – head-down, horns-out anger. Like the Murcielago, the Aventador is big. It's more than ten inches longer than a Chevrolet Corvette, five inches wider than a Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat, and 3.5 inches wider than a Dodge Viper. It is also low, an inch lower than the already ground-floor Huracan. I won't pretend to be rational about it: the Aventador says everything I want a car to say. It's the certain, antidotal statement to brief and befuddled everyday lives. The cabin is a cockpit in every sense: close-fitted, button-filled, lit up. I'm five-foot-eleven, and I wear it like a tailored suit. I gave a ride to a guy who's six-foot-three and perhaps 260 pounds, so it can fit much larger frames but I still don't know how he got in or out through that scissor-door opening. The trunk in the Murcielago was big enough to hold a single dream.