A defining moment as an automotive enthusiast occurred recently when I was handed the keys to a 2025 Aston Martin DB12. It had a presence — like meeting a celebrity. I was star-struck by the $325,000 exotic sports car, supercar and cultural icon.

For fans of the spy movie genre, the Aston Martin also has panache. It’s James Bond’s signature sports car.

Driving the DB12 was surreal. A twin-turbocharged V8, producing 671 horsepower and 590 lb-ft of torque, handbuilt by Mercedes-AMG, felt refined and potent. Unlike its V12 predecessor, the DB12’s 4.0-liter V8 idles with a subtle tremor, a reminder of the power lurking beneath the hood.

As I pulled out onto the roadway, the reality of what I was driving hadn’t yet set in. There was an eerie silence inside the cabin. Like being sealed inside a bank vault—every outside sound is muted, leaving only the intoxicating burble of the active exhaust. The burble turned into a controlled roar and I eased into the throttle;  the DB12 surged with astonishing urgency.

The intoxicating exhaust note is so pleasing I dipped into the throttle longer than necessary. In seconds, I accelerated to triple digits. The DB12 is deceptively quick; it isolates a driver from the sensation of speed, effortlessly blurring the line between grand tourer and supercar. More than once, I glanced at the speedometer and discovered I was going twice as fast as I thought.

Even in aggressive driving, the DB12 remained composed, never unsettled, always predictable, agile and playful. The steering was telepathic, the chassis unshakeable. The ride, despite the car’s performance credentials, remained sublime.

The acceleration is akin to a business jet taking off—forceful yet refined. The Aston Martin begs to be driven fast, but when decelerating the brakes are just as mind-boggling as the power delivery. They bite with precision, reducing speed with effortless confidence.

The DB12’s interior evokes a sense of occasion. Every surface is draped in full-grain leather and suede, the craftsmanship unmistakably top-tier. The seating strike a perfect balance between comfort and support, reminiscent of a comfy Eames lounge chair.

The switchgear is refined, every button and dial exuding precision. Curiously, the DB12 lacks the delicious leather fragrance bouquet common in high-end exotics.

Starting the DB12 is unique. Unlike most cars, where the starter audibly engages and the engine cranks over, the Aston-Martin hesitates for a few seconds before erupting to life, as if gathering itself for the occasion. The start-stop system, while impressively smooth, is a touch lazy, taking a few beats too long to reignite when lifting off the brake. Fortunately, a defeat button is conveniently located.

On the twisting backboards of the Napa Valley in California, the DB12 proved its mettle. The Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tires provide an unshakeable grip. I use the same tires on my Corvette.

The Aston Martin carved corners with precision. But I wished for a grab handle for my passenger, whose instinctive grasp for an imaginary “oh shit” handle reminded me to dial things back.

The DB12 is an enigma. It’s not the flashiest, nor the most extreme supercar. But it does everything so well it transcends traditional categories. Compared to my Corvette, the Aston Martin is superior in every measurable way—but not to an unfathomable degree.

The disparity between a Toyota Corolla and a Chevrolet Corvette is vast, but the jump from a Corvette to a DB12 is more about refinement than raw numbers. It’s the difference between steak and eggs at a local diner and bifteck à cheval prepared by a Michelin-star chef. It’s the same dish, but one is elevated. That’s the Aston Martin.

After an hour of driving the DB12, my face hurt and my jaw was sore, the result of my persistent grin. It was a small consolation for the experience of driving one of the world’s finest automobiles.

At $325,000, the DB12 isn’t for everyone. It’s a car for those who seek an elevated experience, who appreciate the blend of power, luxury and craftsmanship. But one question remains: Why choose the DB12 over other supercars?

Despite its breathtaking performance, the DB12 isn’t ostentatious. In St. Helena, where exotic cars are commonplace, it barely attracted attention. It blended into the landscape, its aggressive yet understated design lacks the brashness of a Lamborghini or Ferrari. That’s part of its appeal—a proper British gentleman’s sports car, exuding quiet confidence rather than demanding attention.

The DB12 delivers on every level. It’s not just a machine—it’s an event, an experience, a privilege. It’s a rolling testament to automotive excellence. https://www.astonmartin.com/en-us