Audi RS 3 review: Get a whiff of that 98 decibel rasping fart noise
Gone with the wind
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.There are three outstanding things about the Audi RS 3, which just happen to be the three most important things about any car: how it sounds, how it looks and how it goes.
Sound? Forgive the vulgarity but when you press the ignition button the RS 3 always make a sort of rasping fart noise from its big-bore exhaust pipes.
To be precise, in fact a 98 decibel rasping fart noise. According to the indispensable industrialnoisecontrol.com, this makes the overture of the Audi RS 3 symphony a mere 10 dB below the human ear pain threshold and about as loud as a jet take-off (at 305 meters), use of outboard motor, power lawn mower, motorcycle, farm tractor, jackhammer and garbage truck.
To be fair, it’s not as ear-splitting as a Boeing 707 or DC-8 aircraft at one nautical mile (6,080 ft) before landing (106 dB);a jet flyover at 1000 feet (103 dB); or a Bell J-2A helicopter at 100 ft (100 dB).
More tea vicar?
Usually of course such noise pollution is socially unwelcome, but with this performance-oriented Audi it is just an apt reminder that it goes like the wind.
The spec
Audi RS 3 Saloon
Price: £58,345 (as tested; model starts at £45,705
Engine capacity: 2.5-litre petrol; 5-cyl; 7-sp dual clutch auto; AWD
Power output (PS @ rpm): 400@5,85
Top speed (mph): 155 (174 with optional limiter removal)
0-62 mph (seconds): 4
Fuel economy (mpg): 34
CO2 emissions (g/km): 188
Thank you.
Once you get moving, er, like the wind, the precise balance of aural and sensory satisfaction is determined by which drive setting you pick. There is a default “auto” setting which guesses what mood you’re in in by how hard you beat the gas pedals and brakes, and adjusts the steering and suspension accordingly, as well as sensing what’s going on down there under the big polished alloys, so you don’t get yourself into any scrapes.
With supercar levels of acceleration and its general loudness (including an exuberant paint job) your RS 3 can best be thought of as a bad boy of this, the twilight era of motoring pleasure, the last few years before a combination of taxation, electrification and autonomous driving finally tear the balls off the motor car as we have known it these past 130 years or so. Enjoy yourself at the wheel, in other words, it’s later than you think.
If that’s your mood, then you can throw fuel economy to that same wind, and opt for “dynamic” driving mode, which transform your RS 3 from mere superfast saloon to twitchy, restless, hungry beast, anxiously waiting for the cue to shift down a gear or two and propel you to the horizon. Even so it doesn’t make much sense round town, especially on our British roads, the worst in Western Europe so I am told. Comfort is the sensible setting there, and, again, the softer suspension settings and more languorous transmission settings make this into a mini limo. With each setting comes a different noise level, all of them just the right side of harshly metallic and mostly the right side of making the neighbour’s dog bark in alarm.
The only flaw, as I discovered on the mechanically similar hatch S3 version a while back, is that the dual shift gearbox, which has the next gear “ready” for your next move, doesn’t always deliver a scorching start from rest, and even less so when the stop-start function is on (which will save you a little on fuel costs, and feels a bit futile on such a car).
So yes, the RS 3 bites with great alacrity and, for the most part, lives up to its bark. As the huge lettering at the foot of the front grille declares this is an Audi Quattro so it has all-wheel drive and, thus, supreme grip, more than enough for the amateur driver and while it will be as civilised or not as you wish it to be, it has a conscience too. Still, you don’t want to be taking risks on public roads.
The interior is your usual classy Audi stuff; nice big screen for the graphics and sat nav, and nice soft leather seats and tasteful chrome and aluminium highlights and “mood” lighting. The only drawback, as usual, are the controls for the sat nav, radio and so on, which are a bit clunky. The best thing is the look and especially this wicked shade of “Viper Green” they’ve invented. They reserve it for the most extrovert cars in the VW Group, such as the Audi TT and a few Porsches, so it is a bit special.
It’s a 1970s sort of colour – brash and optimistic, a defiant colour for a grim and uncertain age, and, as I’ve indicated, a fist waved at the march of the lithium-ion battery and adaptive cruise control. I had people come up to me and openly declare their admiration for the paint job. Not the car – the colour. One even asked me if I had designed the colour myself. Quite the compliment in the vegetable aisle in the Co-Op.
To me, you see the RS 3 as a classic four-door sedan shape, and is much better proportioned than its S3 hatch sibling. The boot adds to the notion that this is literally a proper compact sports saloon rather than a mere hot hatch, distancing it a little more from its VW Golf origins (the RS 3 and Audi A3 being just a few of many variations on the Golf theme in the VW corporate stable – try a Seat Leon Cupra, VW Beetle R-line or Skoda Octavia estate VRs for other interesting variants).
The Audi RS 3 is one of the very few £50,000 new cars I’d recommend unequivocally. It adds to the gaiety of the nation, and it really does lift your spirits. Plus there are only a few more years left in the internal combustion engine, so why postpone the fun times? One day the RS 3 will be a classic car, a symbol of a bygone age and still giving of its best. It makes much sense, odd to say, though it is beyond the means of many. I suppose the alternative would be just to buy an old Audi saloon, punch a hole in the exhaust, stick a body kit on it and paint the whole thing Viper Green. A cheaper way to let rip, that would be.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments