2004 Saab 9-3 Linear Sedan 4-door 2.0l on 2040-cars

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Vampire Weekend singer responds to burning Saab controversy [w/video]

Last week, we tipped you off about Vampire Weekend and their new music video for the song Diane Young, a short film that consists entirely of setting fire to two perfectly nice-looking Saab 900 automobiles. The indie rock band's video - viewable by scrolling down - predictably triggered the internet ire of classic car enthusiasts - Saabophiles in particular - and word of the unrest eventually got back to the band itself.
According to music site Spinner (nb: owned by Autoblog parent AOL), the group was "stunned" at the backlash - enough that lead singer Ezra Koenig felt compelled to respond himself. According to Koenig, the band was under the impression that their record company was "looking to purchase the cheapest, oldest cars possible; they weren't trying to buy a beautiful perfect condition car." By way of apology, Koenig even goes so far as to note that bandmate Rostam Batmanglij is a keen fan of Saab.
Other reports have claimed that the cars may have been purchased under false pretenses, sold by owners who "wanted to see them go to a nice new home," but Koenig takes issue with that characterization, countering that he understood that the cars had substantial electrical problems.

Petrolicious keeps our love of the Saab Sonett aflame

German auto designs lean toward function and purpose. Italian designers deliver passion and beauty. The Brits, majesty. American cars, brashness and authority. If you want a funky design, though, you go to Sweden. The land of cheap, do-it-yourself furniture and delicious meatballs knows a thing or six about style and design, and while that character is only now reemerging thanks to a certain string of Volvo concepts, it use to be that Saab was the authority on penning some of the industry's more unique designs.
Take the beautiful Sonett for example - a small coupe whose appearance is a funky mishmash of a Porsche 911 and a Bugeyed Sprite with just a hint of a Citroën DS (it's that convex rear window). It's a positively striking car, made more unique by its two-stroke, three-cylinder powertrain and four-on-the-tree manual transmission. With just 70 horsepower hauling about 1,500 pounds of Swedish style, the Sonett strikes us as an ideal alternative to some of the English sports cars of its day, particularly for those that are looking for something beyond your average MG or Triumph.
For Glenn Roberts, the Sonett was a part of his childhood. His family owned example was originally a special-order item by his parents in 1967. He bought the car from them 13 years later and has never looked back, completing a restoration in 2004. With a story like that, it's not surprising that Roberts and his silver Sonett are the most recent pairing to get some attention from Petrolicious.

Saab has ruined all Swedish cars for me

It's easy to dismiss my hatred of all Swedish automotive manufacturers as a simple result of bad experiences. I mean, we're all products of our own experiences, some we learn from, others we don't, and some we need to be hit over the head with time and time again. I've been hit over the head too many times with Saabs (and one lonely Volvo), and as a result, I can't bring myself to buy a Koenigsegg. It started with a 900 Turbo sedan. You know, the ugly duckling sister of the beautiful two-door coupe that spawned the Aero, which managed to look stunning from the front, and like a child with a full nappy (diaper) at the rear. I bought it at an auction (mistake number one) for $6,500 (AUD) because as a bloke in his early twenties, I wanted to be noticed – and a greasy-haired bespectacled musician driving a turbocharged Swedish luxury car was my way of standing out. On the drive home I noticed two things: one, it handled like it was on rails – it just gripped! And two, the turbo wasn't working. I took my new wheels to the mechanic, who promptly told me a custom exhaust system would solve the problem – mistake number two. During the fitting, Mr. Shonky's Repair Shop managed to fry some computer thingy. I won't try to remember or understand what it was, but he did tell me that it should have been replaced and that I would have to pay for it. I agreed. Mistake number three. Twelve months later I had spent more than double the original purchase price on repairs, and the turbo still wouldn't work. I sold it for about $4,000, and moved on to something more sensible. But the beautiful handling and quirky design had left an itch that I just couldn't scratch. Many cars and motorbikes later, I sold my Mazda RX-8 because it was too perfect. You know those cars that have spotless paint, an unmarked interior, low kilometers, and you're just too damn scared to park it anywhere? Yep, it was one of those. I would spend 30 to 40 minutes trying to find a vacant spot with vacant spots on either side, and even after leaving the car I would walk back to check if anyone had parked next to me. If they did, I moved. Not a low-anxiety vehicle. So I bought my second Saab – this time a 9-5 turbo wagon – from an auction. Wasn't that mistake number one? This one had reasonably low kilometers, and was even on LPG (a fairly common conversion is Australia – just not on Saabs) and only set me back $2,200. I drove it home, and low and behold, the turbo worked!