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Definitive Cars of the 1980s

Escort XR3i
Image: Chris Taylor

Near ubiquitous in the suburban environs of Britain in the mid eighties, Ford’s everyman classic is possibly Britain’s most instantly recognisable eighties motor.

Porsche 911 (959)

Spookily locked in tight to the aesthetic of the age, the 959 was Porsche’s group B rally homologation special, and pioneered the company’s all wheel drive system.

Ferrari F40

The F40 was last car that the great Enzo Ferrari would personally commission, built to commemorate the first four decades of the Prancing Horse. This ultimate in race bred road-legal motoring, it brought track and road experience together in a legendarily lean, turbocharged package.

Honda CR-X

Nippy, light and to this day an accessible cult of enthusiastic motoring, we still desire one of these eminently chuckable Civic variants.

E30 M3 EVO.

Lusted after these last quarter of a century for its boxy mechanicity, the E30 3 series makes you wish the world was the Green Hell.

Aston Martin V8 Vantage Zagato

Imagined in steel, wood and leather in the fusty workshops of Newport Pagnall, but bodied by the single minded Zagato in Milano. This was an unholy fusion of the old-world Aston and Italianate angularity. Decadent, faintly ridiculous, like the decade itself.

Audi Sport Quattro

No, Gene Hunt didn't drive one of these. This was the short, stubby Group B Homologation car, one that no copper could ever afford. The Quattro expressed the twin obsessions of the era – all wheel drive and forced induction – in a geometrically appropriate form that perfectly fitted the temper of the times.

Peugeot 205GTi

The definitive hot hatch of the eighties, the 205 GTi had front wheel drive but oversteered pleasurably with lift-off going into the corner. This car is, to this day, stripped down, simple fun. Its success is as responsible as any car for the near ubiquity of the Front Wheel Drive form in current everyman motors.

Alfasud Ti Cloverleaf

We think some editions of Alfa’s ‘Sud are plain ugly: but the cloverleaf later versions with the twin carb 1500 Boxer and the bits of plastic trim scream eighties cool, and having recently driven one (thanks Scott) we are convinced. Some say they are even more fun to drive than the 205.

Arcade Fire

If you were a child in the 1980s, you will remember Outrun. The fact that are reading this is probably in large part because of Outrun.

It's easy, of course, to overstate cultural influences, and to tease a thread out of the twisted tapestry of culture and follow it back accurately to its causes is notoriously difficult. But most late thirty to fortysomething petrolhead will have the colourfully pixelated, luxurious world of the Mastersystem arcade game burned into their frontal lobes.

Launched into arcades in 1986, the game had a number of innovations in both it's game-play and the technology that drove it. But of course, the most visible of these was the moving cabinet. It looked like a car for chrissakes! It bumped and shimmied. The steering wheel gave feedback too. This was the draw that a subsequent generation of arcade game developers would use. Outrun did it first, and, arguably did it the best.

Once in the cabinet, the player would control a man driving a car with his comely girlfriend in the passenger seat. At first sight the player one car appears to be the more or less non-existent cabrio version of the Ferrari Testarossa, though it seems the games developer didn't have an official license in the early years (though it cleared up that tricky little detail for the release of the console-friendly version of the game, artwork above).

The rear view actually, however, bore a striking resemblance to Pininfarina's 1989 concept for Ferrari, the Mythos (below). Intriguing to think that the pensmen at the hallowed design house might have been originally inspired by an arcade game.

Various other key cars of the period were featured, including a 911 and an E30 325 Cabrio, and there was a fundamentally synthed-out, fizzing and popping soundtrack that was in part Miami Sound Machine-like period discopop and Japanese jazz-funk fusion. It was the lush and varied 3D-styled environments through which the player would travel, rather than seemingly to merely pass over it, thanks to the innovation of some cool technology that would set the gaming world alight in years to come.

In a brilliant piece of cultural cross-pollination Yu Suzuki, the chief designer of the game, made it his mission to evoke a Miami Vice- like world of speed, colour and glamour, thereby feeding young, impressionable minds a driving dream in exchange for a twenty pence piece.

The legacy of Outrun has, well, run and run.

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Definitive Motorbikes of the 1980s

The eighties in bike culture was a story of Japanese dominance and technical innovation. European brands suffered greatly from the explosion in popularity of fast, reliable and colourful machines coming out of the far east, which were rooted in high tech engineering.

The cheapness and accessibility of Jap machines meant a whole new generation in Europe and America was able to get on their bikes - and the proliferation and broadening of choice made biking a much more colourful proposition than it had been in previous decades.

For the first time in the eighties, buying into bike culture wasn't about just being a generic, leather clad 'biker'. It was about being the sort of biker you wanted to be.

Montecarlo or Bust!

The North of the 80s, the North of my coming of age felt like a giant oil-grey canvas and we stamped our youthful enthusiasm across it in a rainbow of defiance. Against a backdrop of the miners strike, soaring unemployment and football violence I lived for the tones of Marlene Shaw extolling the virtues of California Soul, lighting up some dark, smokey club we had descended on, candy coloured Lambrettas lined up outside in the drizzle.

We robbed and plundered elements of café culture from across the globe. We shunned the parka, but embraced the three-button suit, we snubbed the common lines of the Escort, the Capri, but worshiped at the temple of all things Auto Italia. Not that the latest Milanese exotica were within our reach – just keeping a GP200 in two star was costly enough. Perhaps that’s why I still harbour dreams of cruising the Riviera in something fast, in something stylish, in something born of the imagination of one of Italy’s great design geniuses.

And there she sat, preserved in her humidity-controlled catacomb, lines clearly visible under the shroud: two seats, mid-engined, flying buttresses, penned by the great Carrozzeria Pininfarina. But the object of my attention was not the 60s icon on my left. The Sophia Loren like curves of the red Ferrari 246 Dino may have caught my eye, but it was the Series 2 Lancia Montecarlo tucked away at the back that I was here to see.

A metallic blue brooding beauty, she was all high cheekbones, dark eyebrows, sharp jaw-line in that Margaux Hemingway 1980s kind of way. As an ex-press car, she’d been splashed in glamorous spreads across the glossies and I’d lusted after her through finger-worn features. Now she was coming home with me.

Launched as the spiritual big brother of Fiat X1/9, the Montecarlo was not a sales success. For all its sharp lines, inspired chassis and free-revving willingness, many reviews labelled it underpowered and noisy.

After a couple of years the car was quietly withdrawn. That would normally be the end of the story, but being Italian, endings are made to be re-written, redesigned. With fettled brakes, larger alloys and a grill to match the Delta Integrale, the re-launched Montecarlo hit the streets at the start of the Walkman decade.

So how is it living with an 80’s supermodel? This rarefied beauty certainly attracts attention at watering holes. The sculpted cockpit is reminiscent of many Ferraris of the era. Sitting in the space-frame seat, the beautiful leather Momo wheel is small and perfectly positioned. Yes it may block out the speedo, the indicator, the warning lights, but you can see the rev counter and in an era that was all about power lunches and power dressing, seeing the needle race through the power band was what it was all about.

The engine sits just behind the driver in the centre of the chassis and at mid revs, with the windows closed, the interior reverberates to the amplified roar of the sports exhaust. But where the Montecarlo really comes into its own is blasting along rural blacktops, winding though coastal lanes: it roams the countryside swooping and turning like a Peregrine Falcon, totally unflappable through the esses.

On a warm autumn day with the windows down, I dream of sweeping along the Italian coastline, heading for some beachfront café bar to nonchalantly abandon my ride in a no-parking zone, knowing the passing Carabinieri will merely nod in admiration at this stylish little ‘automobile raffinata’ before ticketing the oil-grey Audi parked alongside.

Photography: Demi Taylor

Knight Rider, Neon Soul

Somewhere in the saturday evenings of the eighties, I was led to believe that cars could have soul. But the sort of soul that I imagined wasn't the cod-mystic, seventies-bred abstract quirkiness of Herbie. No sir. In the eighties, our friends were electric and my ideal sidekick on wheels was motored by electronic technology.

And know this. The Hoff, AKA Michael Knight (undercover Las Vegas cop and brawn behind the crime fighting Knight industries empire and special sort of law-enforcement agent thingy and human 'master' of the car known as KITT) - was never cool in my eyes. Skin tight stonewash and dark bouffant would never be hip in this cultural quarter - it was his car that was cool.

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And how about that car? Kitt (the moniker was a of Knight Industries Two Thousand was a souped up, tricked out version of a 1982 Trans Am: and his computer technology allowed him to roam free and wide foiling plans of world domination by a variety of bad guys, but also to develop a strangely homoerotic attachment to the Hoffmeister himself.

The vibe between the Hoff and his cyber-friend was similar to that other icon of eighties cheese Magnum's odd relationship with his posh butler. Kitt's was voiced by the vaguely camp yet authoritative William Daniels who played the role as a slightly patronising, snooty logician. Kitt was Mr Spock to Hasselhof's Captain Kirk - whose tempestuous human emotions and instinctive physicality were foil to the calculated analysis of the machine.

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When you look at the array of technology on offered in the higher end of the executive saloon market, it's not a million miles away from the Kitt's ample quiver of capabilities. Your Audi A8 may not have 'optimum pursuit mode' but it does have adaptive cruise control, intelligent suspension and interactive satellite navigation. Your new XJ might not have 'follow me home' technology, but it does have a full TFT display and enough parking sensors to build a pretty accurate picture of the world around it.

The world we imagine is the world we come to inhabit. Stop imagining that stonewash.

Turbo Redux

In 1966, 3-litre normally aspirated engine regulations were introduced to F1 with a 1.5-litre equivalency formula for anyone wanting to run a turbo instead. Nobody did. Until, that is, a decade later.

The British Grand Prix of 1977 saw two highly significant debuts. One was Gilles Villeneuve in a McLaren, and the second was the 1.5-litre V6 turbo Renault with Jean-Pierre Jabouille at the wheel.
At first, nobody took the Renault too seriously. It blew up a lot and because brewing up could be more or less be relied upon, it earned itself a nickname of ‘The Teapot.’ Or, some said, ‘Teapot 2’ because the original Teapot had been a Ligier with a particularly tall and distinctive airbox.

By the time a couple of seasons had gone by, the Renault was being taken very seriously indeed. Jabouille scored the first turbocharged win by an F1 car, fittingly enough in the French GP at Dijon in ‘79. But even that race was better known for its epic tussle for second place between Gilles Villeneuve’s Ferrari and Rene Arnoux aboard the second Renault turbo.

Arnoux was using the better top speed of the Renault and Villeneuve the better drivability of the naturally-aspirated flat-12 Ferrari. They banged wheel repeatedly and went off everywhere until Villeneuve crossed the line ahead.

“Irresponsible!” bellowed the Puritans. “Nothing to worry about, just a couple of young lions clawing each other...” reckoned laconic ’78 world champ Mario Andretti.

Running more boost in qualifying, the Renaults were always at the front of the grid and when they started to develop reliability too, the writing was on the wall. The opposition realised that turbos were the only way to go and it effectively spelled the end of the road for the legendary Ford Cosworth DFV (below).

It wasn’t Renault, though, who claimed the first world championship success for a turbocharged car. That honour fell to Bernie Ecclestone’s Brabham team with its four cylinder BMW turbo, which snatched the championship from under Alain Prost nose at the very last race of 1983 in South Africa.

Turbos dominated F1 for the next five years with Niki Lauda and Alain Prost claiming a hat-trick of titles for McLaren with a TAG-Porsche V6 between 1984-6. Prost won that ’86 title in dramatic fashion when Nigel Mansell suffered a dramatic tyre blowout just 18 laps short of winning the title with his Williams-Honda in Adelaide.
Nelson Piquet made amends the following season for Williams-Honda before Ayrton Senna took the first of his three world titles in a McLaren-Honda in ‘88.

By the mid eighties turbo engine development saw stratospheric horsepower figures derived from the 1.5-litre motors – as much as 1500bhp in qualifying trim, where every gearshift sounded like a detonating grenade and produced a dark haze behind each car. Costs were spiralling out of control and for ’89 the FIA banned turbos and introduced a new engine class for 3.5-litre normally aspirated power units.

Today’s F1 engines are 2.4-litre V8s but the governing body is busy drafting regulations for a new small capacity turbo formula to be introduced in 2013 along with more powerful regenerative systems.

The thinking behind it is threefold; being seen to be green, capping spending as much as possible and having more direct relevance to the motor industry.

Cosworth Group’s chief executive Tim Routsis has been part of the ongoing discussions and says: “The big difference this time will be the amount of fuel we can pour into the engine over a race. In terms of efficiency, the differences have to be marked. We are looking at using somewhere between 35 and 50% less fuel than we are using today for a car that’s got to do fundamentally the same sort of lap time and distance, so it’s a big change.”
There’s concern about a couple of things: preventing a financial arms race and, in terms of fan appeal, making sure the turbos still sound good.

“As regards the spending, one route is to constrain areas where we know you can spend a great deal of money for very little gain and just keep the development focused on areas which are relevant to the future,” Routsis says. “The other is to look at the amount of resource that each engine manufacturer deploys on the job. It’s very much work in progress but everyone is committed to finding an answer.

“As for the sound, a turbocharged engine will always be a little quieter than a naturally aspirated one running open pipes. But I’ve never seen a really good racing engine that sounded bad. I think we’re going to find the old story that if it goes fast, it’ll sound great. There are things we can do as well. Playing around with firing order does actually make a remarkable difference but if we are going to have less cylinders the amount that you can actually play with that is reduced. But I don’t think they’ll sound bad. They’re still going to be pretty high-revving by any normal standards.”

So there you have it. Coming soon, to a circuit near you – Turbos 2!

Saatchi’s Life

Strange western symbolism in this Civic campaign from Japan...

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This ad for the tenth anniversary Datsun Z-car screams sells old-fashioned , mustached sex...

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And this will make you look at the Ford Sierra anew...

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Dig the Top-Gun pastiche and beyond-the-limit driving in this South African Golf campaign

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The payoff here is the beautiful Bill Withers excerpt

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And straight to the point with a bit of irony here, just like Not the Nine O'Clock News
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