Ahhh Thrust Mode- Chismillionaire Likey!

words: Eddie Alterman

I've never been of the opinion that the base Lamborghini Gallardo needed more oomph, but I'm obviously in the minority. The coupe's variants — the SE, the Superleggera — have offered additional speed and/or additional lightness, and they have kept the whole Gallardo enterprise fresh for the past five years.

So it should come as no surprise to anyone but me that a new Gallardo variant was needed, this time to replace the coupe (the Superleggera's gone; the Spyder remains). The newest baby bull is called the LP560-4, and all you really need to know about it is that it has a frickin' Thrust mode. The end.

For those interested in the bothersome details of this $201,000 entry-level Lambo, know that the revitalization efforts extend to pretty much every area of the car. The LP560-4 has a revised body, suspension, engine, brakes, lighting, and transmission. It results in a Gallardo with the same power-to-weight ratio as the Superleggera, a 3.7-second 0-62 time, a top speed of 202 mph, and the kind of power curve to launch a thousand Evel Knievels.

We drove the car at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway and its environs, and Maurizio Reggiani, Lamborghini's R&D director, gave us the technical walk-around. "The power is up 40 PS, to 560, which is why it's called LP560-4." Converting from metric to American, 560 PS equals 552.33 horsepower. LP stands for a Longitudinale Posteriore engine placement and 4 represents the number of driven wheels. With the engine thus situated, the LP560-4 has a rear-biased weight distribution of 43/57 percent. The ten cylinders — arrayed in a ground-hugging, 90-degree V — get a larger bore versus their predecessors, bumping the V-10's displacement up 0.2 liters to 5.2. Lamborghini employs direct injection here: It allows for a 12.5:1 compression ratio, a wider power band, and an 18-percent reduction in fuel consumption and C02 emissions. Peak power happens at a lofty 8000 rpm; max torque of 398 lb-ft comes in the form of a little bump in the plateau at the 6500-rpm mark.

But the increase in power alone doesn't get the LP560 to the Superleggera's motivation-to-mass ratio: The new car also weighs 44 pounds less than the outgoing Gallardo. Revised axles and differentials (including a 45-percent limited-slip rear) shave mass, despite the addition of a toe link on the rear suspension. Otherwise, the body's weight remains essentially the same, even though the car is two inches longer than before. The more observant among you will notice that the front fascia comes to a point as on the Murciélago and the Reventón, and that the taillights, which previously reached up onto the deck, are now contained on the rear fascia, their Y-shaped LEDs giving off an unmistakably mil-spec vibe. With the lights suddenly horizontal and the extraction mesh running uninterrupted across the fascia's full width, the rear of the car looks a bit like a more rectilinear version of Audi's R8, a consequence that was wholly unintended.

One area intentionally brought into line with the R8, however, is the transmission. Though still offered in the same six-speed manual or six-speed e-gear configurations, the e-gear unit has a rotational selector to replace the fore-aft mechanism. This results in as much as 40-percent faster and infinitely smoother, gentler shifts. Although, if you really want to feel the gears engage, you can select the Corsa shift program, which delivers a mule-kick to your lumbar region every time it swaps cogs. Corsa is just one of five shift/ESP modes, which also include, in order of increasing aggressiveness: Automatic, Normal, Sport, and the previously mentioned launch control, suggestively named Thrust. The more belligerent settings switch the ESP programming to Sport, which indulges fairly wide slip angles before intervening.

On the course set up for us at the Las Vegas Motor Speedway, a combination oval-infield arrangement, the car comes on with a Lambo's anticipated lack of subtlety. Idling through pit lane, the V-10 sounds like the devil's own sewing machine, a busy interweaving of alloy parts. Prod the throttle and the various butterflies in the car's lungs snap open, overlaying the brittle hum with a heavy, guttural howl. On the bowl, the car digs in and stays glued there, its seductive combination of lateral grip and body control prodding you faster and higher. Out here, the gearbox is mostly ceremonial — there is such a large powerband that you rarely have to shift. Third is fine even for tight corners and fourth is good for deep triple-digit speeds. You'd think that a torque peak of 6500 would mean a dearth of low-end grunt, but the direct-injection system keeps part-throttle response aggressive. In fact, the old Gallardo feels positively peaky by comparison.

Diving into the infield, the LP560-4 revealed a few weaknesses: The optional carbon-ceramic brakes ($10,000) have a dead zone at the top of the pedal travel, making smooth tip-in almost impossible. The brakes bite down so hard that you can nearly set off the seatbelt pre-tensioners if you don't get your footwork right. Also, the car's steering masks feel with weight. There's a force-feedback artificiality to the helm, which is ironic considering that the steering is nearly unassisted.

That said, I didn't use the steering wheel all that often. Mostly, I just steered the car with the gas pedal. While doing so, I was able to engage in the stereotypically Mediterranean activities of drinking a tiny espresso with an even smaller spoon and calling many people on several cell phones at once. Indeed, what could be more Italian than a car that leaves your hands free to gesticulate? Overdrive the car into a corner, and a slight relaxation of your right foot tucks the nose back into line. Brake hard for a tight left-hander, and the back end will come about, gently and controllably. At the limit, the whole car seems to dance, and all the heft and brusqueness of its demeanor evaporates.

The LP560-4 is equally at home on the road, with great initial bump absorption and a very balanced secondary ride. It also tends to attract people, many of them yokels. Four toothless gentlemen in a clapped-out F-150 were admiring the car's visuals, issuing numerous whoops, hollers, and invitations to race. Others were not so susceptible to the Lambo's charms. While on the strip, I saw a woman reach out of her rental Chrysler 300 and drop an overstuffed McDonald's bag right onto the street. I gave her the kind of overenthusiastic thumbs-up that even the bovine-hormone afflicted can read as sarcastic, and she gave me a crass and un-layered single-digit response. When she engaged me in conversation at a light it was to ask, somewhat quizzically, if I was an accountant. She then added that even a car such as the LP560-4 would fail to garner me female consort. I thought about reminding her that I had the high moral ground here — while she was dumping grease onto the pavement, my Gallardo was consuming 18 percent less fuel than last year's model. In the end, though, all I could come up with was this: "Eat another burger, you fat cougar!" With a tug of the paddles and a press of a button, I set the car to Thrust mode.