In defence of the Siebener.
Calendar pages numbering two hundred and forty months have turned since the E65 BMW 7 Series rocked the upper automotive echelons. With sober feelings toward most blue and white propellers, along with puzzlement as regards their food additive nomenclatures (they begin at 100 – curcumin), this fourth generation flagship has never been a common sight for this particular author. Engaging though, when seen.
To these now more nuanced eyes, time’s hand has been gentle, keeping that deportment smooth with appropriate treatments liberally applied – difficult for granite-made objects. One cannot deny both the heft and gravitas of the machine: move over, coming through.
The Bavarian range topper cleaved opinions practically 50-50 on matters of importance to the average auto enthusiast. Love it, or as many see even today, lost it in the stakes of styling. Customers and commentators alike have lasting memories when the moniker Bangle or much over-used phrase ‘flame surfacing’ climbs the parapet. Is it not time to allay such misguided vehemence?
Agreed, the spilt decision over the E65’s looks will forever be a matter of opinion. But search a little deeper within your heart. Crack open the smallest hatch in your soul, and allow those aggressive feelings to dissipate. I’m not expecting you to love this car (I do not), only please appreciate what has been lost forever; clean, simple lines unadorned with ineffectual accoutrements that festoon today’s behemoths, not even of the same class. How the statesman-like saloon’s toes become more trodden upon by the unruly utility mob.
The tick boxes marked large, heavy and complicated are ingrained atramentous. Those with more understanding of engineering principles than this scribe becry the unreliability tropes. How childlike the iDrive doctrine; how derisive such youths of today would be towards that dial, those submenus. These fingers are yet to twiddle said dial. These eyes never gazed into instruments orange. As a thirty year stripling, such plutocratic objects were as distant as thoughts of retirement. Years pass, tastes and accents change, personally and objectively.
There are moments of beauty. Those Angel Eyes remain esoteric. Today’s LEDs contain all the emotion of a laser beam. Cannot modern materials bring forth such joys from yesteryear? Another instance of love lost. Inside, once steered away from the sombrely divergent black lay a dashboard that whilst far from overt contains an impact nowadays bordering clean, functional. An early vision of the modern elements of a haptic nature.
Now, to the Seven’s derrière; the most contentious issue? Tired of naysaying augury it wasn’t the best then and that remains – deal with it.
The E65 as a musical analogy has the air of an album from a superstar of old. A mature recording, if not grandiose as earlier outpourings, creativity levels remained high. Yet the album falls under the radar in general – one for the aficionado, perhaps. Those too young and unaccustomed to realise more accessible material exists from a previous life.
A score of years is more than enough to maintain a grudge. Set the Siebener free – learn to love again.