If, like me, you enjoy the sound of an exquisitely tuned engine humming behind the firewall as it ultimately terminates in a basso profundo rumble at the tailpipe, savor it in these waning years of the internal combustion engine. In just two or three more decades the orchestral harmony of a traditional engine will go the way of the dodo. This is not necessarily a bad thing, because it means cars will then be running on electric energy. Batteries will be as vital to the automobile as they are to your phone, squeezing out kilowatts rather than pistons, valves and combustion chambers to literally “bang” out the power from old fashioned, fossil fuel.
I got the first hint of what the future would sound like when I got nearly run over by a Mitsubishi MIEV at their testing facility in Nagoya, Japan. This is because the sound of an electric car as it approaches you is about the same as that made by your regular-size electric fan, which is to say that it would be practically dead-quiet were it not for the slight “thrum” of its teeny tiny tires on the asphalt.
As a matter of fact, in presenting their Concept PX-MIEV hybrid SUV, Mitsubishi was quite proud of the fact that an all-electric driving mode essentially made the car a stealth machine. Ostensibly designed so as not to disturb the neighbors, it may also be used by my son – who will be old enough to drive and, therefore, steal my car at midnight in 15 years – to sneak away from the house to go and court some girls as any self-respecting teenager would. Or it may also be especially useful for law enforcement types who need a quiet car in which to creep up on unsuspecting perps. On a much more practical level, quiet cars multiplied a million-fold will make our cities a lot more quiet, and who wouldn’t like a little less stress?
But for dyed-in-the-wool enthusiasts, it will mean the end of a guilty pleasure that is neither environmentally friendly nor economical: Revving the damn thing just for the hell of it. For what enthusiast will not confess to savoring the sound of a well-tuned, internal combustion engine working out its cylinders? Engine music is to car nuts what fireworks must be for pyromaniacs. You can never get too much of a good thing.
Honestly, after having driven dozens and dozens of cars, SUVs, trucks, and vans through the years, describing how an engine (and its related extension, the exhaust note) sounds in words has always been a challenge. There really aren’t that many phrases to accurately describe the “roarty” exhaust note of a 4-cylinder, the “vroom” of a V6, or the “thrum” of a V8.
You see, there is “engine noise” and then there is “engine music”. Noise is what it is; annoying, discordant, and as pleasant to the eardrums as fingernails on a blackboard. Music, on the other hand, is aural bliss. High end cars even employ all manner of fancy resonators, ducts, and what-have-you to get that perfect engine music. Lexus made a point of drumming up the sound of their LFA supercar, for example. Lamborghini, too, instructed its wizards to make the Aventador’s V12 sound like the most delicious, orgasmic wail you’ll ever hear with your clothes on while inside the car, and frighteningly like the sound of a Stuka fighter bomber bearing down on you if you’re outside it. Porsche achieved a breakthrough of sorts with their V6 diesel, employing all manner of trickery to make it sound like a small block, gasoline powered V8.
Then there are some variations ranging from pedestrian to extraordinary. I once had the pleasure of hearing a heavily tuned, late model Mustang do a quick burnout. Beyond the screech of its tires, its engine sounded like, oh, eight M60 machine guns rattling off inside a dumpster. The Mazda MX-5 has always enjoyed a reputation for its “raspy” exhaust note, but the latest edition seems to depend on it more to make up for its 4-banger’s rather gnarly engine noise. In choosing which Elantra to buy for my family, I actually found the 1.8-liter’s “thrum” rather disappointing compared to the 1.6-liter’s more spirited, turbine-like whine. The Chevrolet Cruze is one, “normal” car that needs to re-tune its vocal chords so it stops “moaning” under load. Every Porsche has always spoken with the sort of brusque, gravelly nature that’s endeared itself to its fans, while BMW has always made a point of making its M3 always sound like some rather expensive satin sheets being ripped apart at the redline. Not that I have ever actually torn apart any bedsheets of late (my wife would kill me, but you know what I mean).
And there’s one thing that Honda lovers can always treasure, no matter the “ordinary-ness” of their car compared to snootier sports cars: the sound of a twin cam, small displacement inline-4 screaming like a banshee.
Delicious stuff, if you’re an engine audiophile.
Alas, with the creeping introduction of hybrids and EVs, the future generation of automobiles may well embody the sound of silence. Perhaps the computer wizards will think of ways to playback vintage engine sounds through the stereo in sync with the motors. An engine snarling at redline does nothing good for the environment, but it can be good for the soul.