Audi TT V6 3.2 Quattro v Nissan 350Z Track 2007 Comparison

Audi dubbed the original TT an icon, a defining automotive design, but let me relate my first and defining experience of the model. My maiden Wheels assignment was the launch of the previous-generation TT V6. Behind the wheel of a bright orange example, I was quietly chuffed as I trundled through traffic. Pulling up at a set of lights, two tradies in a Hilux ute next to me eyeballed the TT. The passenger lowered his window: "Nice car, mate - they make those for men?"

Harsh, but in his own blue-singlet way, he'd succinctly cut to the crux of the TT and its image problem amongst car enthusiasts - and, let's be honest, men in general. Underneath its undeniably stylish skin was essentially a VW Golf Mk IV, and its insipid dynamics resolutely failed to stir the loins when an apex presented itself.

Thankfully the current TT suffers no such shortfalls, and to lump it together with the previous car is to grossly underestimate its abilities. Regardless of whether the styling does it for you, there's no doubt Audi's coupe has evolved from showpony into racehorse. A hard-edged V6 and vastly improved chassis has unlocked serious performance potential. Now, beneath the couture curves lurks real ability and pace. Yes, the TT has become a fully-fledged sports car.

Handy, then, that we have Nissan's newly revised 350Z to benchmark against. Dynamic talent is something the Zed never lacked - it was always fast, raw and rewarding. It could never lay claim, however, to the refinement or sense of class that made an Audi special. Nevertheless, Nissan claims the Zed is a direct competitor for the TT - so can it really cosset and spoil like the seductive Audi? Can the TT really match it blow for dynamic blow with the Zed? Which deserves pride of place in your driveway?

Underneath the 2007 350Z, it's much the same as before, with independent multi-link suspension and a 3.5-litre V6 driving the rear wheels. But its engine, announced by the new 'power bulge' protruding from the bonnet, has been heavily revised. In fact, Nissan claims the HR-series VQ35HR V6 is 80 percent fresh, despite boasting the same bore/stroke and 3498cc capacity as before. Power is now 230kW, up 9kW on the previous model. Torque jumps 8Nm to 353Nm, and there's an extra 500rpm to bounce off tunnel walls, with the redline rising to 7500rpm.

Those extra kilowatts are hardly monumental, but on the road there's no doubt you're pedalling a seriously upgraded engine. Low- and mid-range torque feels usefully fattened up, meaning better flexibility around town and a more relaxed urban gait. Open the taps, however, and it takes on a ballistic edge. As the tacho sweeps past 4500rpm, the engine comes alive with a burst of noise and speed right through until the cut-out. A shame, then, that sound isn't entirely pleasant. Meaty and purposeful, sure, but it's also mechanical to the point of being almost industrial sounding.

The Audi takes the aural award. The direct-injection, 3.2-litre V6 is the same found in the Golf R32 and previous TT and R32, but we can't challenge Audi for raiding VW's parts bin when those parts work so well. Sonorous and smoother than Frank Sinatra, it pulls strongly and cleanly from any rpm, and sings a cultured, though hard-edged V6 warble.

What it can't match is the 350Z's outright punch, despite what the performance figures tell us. The 5.8-second stalemate in the 0-100km/h sprint is due to the Audi's all-wheel-drive advantage when launching off the line. The Zed needs a delicate juggle of clutch and throttle to avoid tyre frying from standstill; nail the TT and it simply grips and goes. Yet the simple maths is this: the TT is 10kg heavier, and cedes 46kW and 38Nm to the Nissan. On the road, these deficits are tangible.

Brake feel is another battle the Zed wins. Not that the TT's ventilated front and rear discs don't pull up strongly and repeatedly, there's just an over-servoed, artificial feel compared to the Nissan's sense of mechanical connection. The Zed needs a firm push on the middle pedal to shed speed, but every millimetre of pedal travel is rewarded with increased retardation from the four-piston Brembos.

But in the fashion conscious arena of sporty coupes, looks must match the intent. And the TT certainly has the glamour. The geometric shapes and plunging curves of the original have been updated, recoded and reproduced in high-definition. There's still a metrosexual delicacy woven into it, but there's now also a degree of visual menace.

The 350Z is the polar opposite: a raw, bluff, Japanese muscle car. All haunches and banzai aggression, it looks like it's itching to slap the TT and steal its Louis Vuitton manbag. The 350Z has always struck me as the Japanese equivalent of Ford's Mustang: an unapologetic blokes' car. Raw and brutish, it taps straight into your testosterone zone. The coarse and brutally effective engine, masculine gearshift and classic rear-drive dynamics are visceral in connection, sound and response.

While the TT sparks your attention with its designer lines, it lights your fire with V6 grunt and sophisticated technology. Admittedly, most of that technology has been borrowed from VW, including the dual-clutch DSG transmission, which works brilliantly as you whap up through gears, and then automatically blips the throttle on the downshifts for you. What still annoys, however, is the snatchy take-up on light throttle, and the jerky start as the clutch engages when pulling away from the lights.

Swapping cogs in the Track-spec 350Z is a more conventional affair. A traditional six-speed manual teams with a heavy clutch and presents a gritty shift action. It's positive, but requires a firm throw from the shoulder, rather than a quick flick of the wrist, to change gears.

No surprises so far, but the script is about to go out the window. Scything down a scarred, pitted, undulating section of blacktop, Audi's TT is putting Nissan's hallowed 350Z to shame. Bucking and squirming, the Zed's vertical movements are poorly controlled, and the front end too softly sprung, rebounding sloppily from large impacts. At the rear, the set-up is too stiff - hits aren't so much swallowed as skated over. Occasionally, the entire car hops sideways, despite the efforts of the standard stability control. It's hard work just to keep the bright orange coupe from becoming a bright orange piece of scenery.

The TT is unflappable over the same stretch. Knobbly and harsh the ride may be at urban speeds, but once the road gets twisty and the red mist descends, the Audi exhibits outstanding body control. Unforgiving damper and spring rates that jar and stab at low speeds manage to become more absorbent as speeds rise. Instantly, the speedo is reading 20km/h faster than that in the skittish Zed. The TT's suspension is disciplined as the dampers absorb the ruts and potholes on the compression stroke, then level things out on rebound. Throw in bags of grip and a neutral chassis, and the TT V6 inspires confidence to push on, despite the road conditions.

Part of that confidence stems from the TT's excellent all-wheel-drive system. Governed by an electronically-controlled, hydraulically-actuated multi-plate clutch - mounted in front of the rear differential - up to 100 percent of drive can be sent to either axle. It works brilliantly, too, imperceptibly juggling torque distribution to fire the TT out of corners. If the comparison ended here, the TT would be the runaway winner. But we know that the Nissan has more to give. Its reputation is a little tarnished, but surely there's an inner Zed hidden below that bulging bonnet, just waiting to be tapped?

Try a strafe through some smooth-ish corners and, from the first flick of wrist and flex of calf, the 350Z is transformed. The engaging, rewarding chassis and tactile responses that forged its reputation are rekindled. The well-weighted and incisive steering hardwires you to the front wheels. The TT's tiller, while certainly quick enough and reassuringly direct, lacks the genuine steering feel that marks a true sports car. The Zed's steering, in contrast, is an intimate interface between fingers and tarmac, nibbling at your hands with a stream of information on grip levels and surface changes.

Then there's that classic rear-drive chassis balance, where the 350Z divides and conquers. Balance the car via the accelerator, gently feeding and releasing throttle as the tyres ferret out grip, and the nose and tail eagerly respond instead of threatening to head in different directions. It's easy to adopt a smooth, flowing style on roads like this. Or you can hit the hoon button, wind on lock and hang the tail out from Christmas to Easter.

The TT is capable and quick through the same set of curves but what's lacking is intimacy and feedback. The chassis is pleasingly neutral, but nudges into understeer at the limit and feels nose heavy at turn in. Directional changes aren't as sharp as the Zed, and throttle response is similarly diluted.

Slow to more sensible speeds, though, and the Nissan's manners are less endearing. The vacant space of the Zed's luggage compartment is, in effect, a pint-sized amphitheatre. Exaggerating the monotone thrum kicked up from the rear tyres, it funnels the noise straight into your ear canals. Bring aspirin if you're planning on long hauls in the 350Z.

Not that the TT is a pillar of refinement, either. For a $90K premium coupe, the amount of road noise, particularly on coarse-chip surfaces, that penetrates the cabin is above expectations. At least both rock with sound systems delivering enough high-fidelity decibels and rumbling bass to drown out the outside world, although the TT takes the gold here.

So, function or form? Despite the TT's seductive charms, and the Zed's rough-road recalcitrance, there's only one car that gets the juices flowing, one car that connects you to the road. It's also the cheaper of the pair. If you buy a TT, you've bought a fine car, but if you buy the Zed, you've bought a true icon.

Track: Oran Park, dry. Temp: 12°C; Driver: Sean Poppit.
* Estimated or manufacturer's claim