Opening the DB7's rather slim door, one is immediately impressed by the heft of the car's construction. At 3804 pounds, the DB7 is a densely packed coupe, while the Volante coats the planet with 4134 pounds. Aston isn't hiding the weight: Everything that possibly could be upholstered inside the DB7 seems overstuffed. Aston Martin is better with wood and leather than any tree or cow could hope to be.
The DB7 isn't roomy, and the coupe's low roofline can make anyone taller than six feet feel claustrophobic. The large transmission tunnel is covered by an even larger center console that continues from the dash to the back seats, leaving long narrow wells to accommodate the driver and passenger. The car is nominally a 2+2, but may as well be a 2+0, unless prospective rear-seat passengers measure their leg length in single picas. The comfortable and supportive high-back front bucket seats are electronically adjustable from, unfortunately, knee-adjacent controls mounted along the center console.
Throughout the interior are elements from Ford's worldwide parts bin. The inner door handles come from the Mazda Miata, the ashtray from the RX-7, and much of the switchgear is of European Ford origin. The most idiosyncratic interior element is the Jaguar-sourced steering column, which lies low in the driver's lap and obstructs views of the instrumentation, even when adjusted over its range. Acclimation to the steering position comes rapidly, and once it's achieved, the driving environment is effective and comfortable for even long-duration adventures.
Engage the throttle; the blower whines seductively, and there's a full 361 pound-feet of torque at only 3000 rpm. The engine doesn't have to rev quickly; the power ramps up steadily, thrust building constantly. Aston ships most DB7s equipped with the automatic transmission, but the manual is better. The five-speed coupe bounded to 30 mph in an exemplary 2.1 seconds, while the automatic and extra weight of the Volante numbed that time to 2.9 seconds. The coupe's 0-60-mph performance of 5.7 seconds and 0.87g skidpad whirl parallel the last six-speed Chevrolet Camaro Z28 MT tested, and the Aston's 66.7-mph slalom speed is one mph better. The Aston's 14.3-second conquest of the quarter mile at 98.1 mph indicates the claimed 165-mph top speed is plausible.
Despite the DB7's short tire sidewalls, the all-independent suspension soaks up road irregularities with aplomb. Diving into corners, the nose will push at first, but it's balanced with abundant torque to coax the rear loose. In the mountains and canyons, the perfectly weighted rack-and-pinion steering guides one of the best-balanced cars in the world. It would be better if the seats weren't continually migrating out of adjustment every time a knee hit the controls, and the shifter didn't block the Alpine stereo controls when in first, third, or fifth gear; nevertheless, the DB7 is one of the world's most beautiful, best-driving grand tourers.
As a proper gentleman should be, the $125,000 DB7 Coupe (or $135,000 Volante) is a paragon of grace and modesty in a world of loud braggarts. It's the sort of car that makes Aston Martin's precarious survival not just desirable, but wholly likely.
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