Scour Lamborghini’s press release for the new Urus and you’ll find no fewer than five references to bits “taking cues” from the LM002. I shan’t list them because as you can see for yourself, this is utter codswallop. Clearly, Lamborghini is keen to ram its SUV credibility down our throat and make sure we’re clear about one thing: the Urus isn’t about selling out, it’s about selling more cars.
Park an Urus in the shadow of an LM002 and it’s obvious Lamborghini has come a long, long way. One is a failed attempt to win a military tender, subsequently wrapped in leather, given a polish and sold to anyone mad enough to take it on; the other is a collection of the finest VW Group parts draped in a pointy Lambo suit and injected with technology to make a Tesla turn green.
A perfect representation, then, of Lamborghini’s 55-year journey from seller of mad things with an allergy to ergonomics, to an ultra-modern supercar manufacturer with the quality, reliability and business sense of Audi. Few would argue that’s a bad thing when it spawns a family of supercars that you can actually see out of and start on the button every time… but is a spacious, high-riding, five-seater family SUV pushing the sensibleness too far?
Let’s start with the way it looks. No doubt you made your mind up within seconds of seeing it, but hopefully we can agree on one thing: of the Cayenne, Bentayga and Q7 bunch with which it shares its MLB platform, it’s not pug-ugly like the Bentley, and has more presence than the other two put together. In the interim five-and-a-half years since we