Audi TT vs Lexus LS

What's the difference?

Audi is finally saying hooroo to this model which has made the world stop and stare like I did on that Parisian street all those years ago.

The Final Edition is a fitting tribute to this iconic sports car and I’m glad Audi didn’t go ‘OTT’ and deck it out with gimmicky features. 

At the same time the Final Edition’s big rear wing, blacked out badges, wheels and interior colour coding hint that this is not just any ordinary TT and those that know will know.

Farewell Audi TT, we hope something just like you but probably electric appears to stop us in our tracks again. 

The LS500 is the least logical version of the most logical option in the ultimate luxury sedan segment in which logic doesn’t often apply at all. 

Take from that what you will, but if it was me being driven around I would definitely be opting for the hybrid version of the LS instead for its smooth electrified driving characteristics and lower operating costs.

The Audi TT’s shape has morphed over the past 25 years from the cute, rounded bubble car that first appeared in the late 1990s to the more aggressively and sleek looking sports car with the sharp creases we see today.

Still, there are the familiar pumped-out wheel arches and, while not as prominent as it used to be, that arching roof and the way it flows down to those tail-lights and stumpy tail remains so true to the original TT.

The TT Final Edition has a more menacing and athletic look than the regular 45 TFSI its based on thanks to the S Line Competition Plus exterior package.

So you’re getting the big fixed wing, an aggressive front bumper, and the 19-inch alloy wheels in gloss black.

There’s a black package, too, which add the decals down the side, the blacked-out badges, the black exhaust tips and black wing mirrors.

My test car’s paint colour was Turbo Blue and you can see in the images of the cabin how Audi matches interior elements in the same colour. The contrast stitching on the seats also lifts the sporty feel into high-end territory.

It’s a simple cabin, though, free from busy buttons and giant screens and the incorporation of climate controls into the air vents is genius. 

If you’re wondering what the TT Final Edition’s dimensions are its 4191mm long, 1832mm wide and 1376mm tall. 

The distinctive but conservative style of Lexus is on full show across the LS’s massive frame. Like other cars in its class, it’s very much the image of the brand itself with styling points strong, but to me not as impressive as the LC500, which is a definitive expression of the brand.

The LS also has many styling points of the previous-generation Lexus design language which are in the process of being phased out.

The car was only updated last year, bringing with it a more recent interpretation of the brand’s big spindle grille, pointy headlight profile, and angular but traditional rear.

The LS - even in this Sports Luxury guise - does look quite menacing from certain angles. The width and stance of this car is accentuated by its curvaceous rear guards and big square front bumper, with the elegance of a classic three-box sedan maintained in a side profile.

The chrome wheel finish is a bit much for my taste, but there’s no doubt they’re real show pieces. They’d better be, too, because I hear they are incredibly expensive should you need to replace one.

The inside has highs and lows but it’s the place where you can most tell the LS has been on sale for a while.

I love the plush seats, big screen, integrated analogue clock and three-dimensional door card design, which sell the flagship luxury feel.

But this car’s age is on show with its clunky and much maligned 'Remote Touch' pad controller (which Lexus is at long last phasing out in its new cars), last-generation software suite, and its small, crowded instrument cluster.

There are a whopping nine interior trim combinations to choose from and ours has the most recently added black leather and ‘Nishijin Haku’ themed highlights which are meant to be inspired by the way "moonlight sits on an open sea".

The feel is a bit '90s, a rough textured fabric with a silver detailing and elements clad in a thin platinum foil, making you feel like you’re in a classic high-class Japanese taxi.

But I’ll admit it plays well with the ambient lighting effect in the doors, and is a unique selling point compared to the standard leather finish.

The Audi TT isn’t going to cut it as a family car, but it’s more practical than a lot of people might think.

First this is a '2+2' sports car meaning those two rear seats are there for the odd occasion when you might need them, because the space back there is limited.

But for most of the time having a place to throw a jacket or extra luggage and not have to ask your co-plot to rest it on their lap will feel like absolute luxury.

Up front head and legroom is good, even for me at 189cm tall. Being a coupe the doors are long and although the car is low I found getting in and out easy.

There’s a pretty clever use of space when it comes down to cabin storage. You’ll find door pockets, a glove box, a covered centre console box and a hidey hole/wireless phone charger in the dash.

Back seat passengers have built-in shelves near their armrests. Surprisingly there are four cupholders - two of which fold out of the dash.   

The boot isn’t huge at 305 litres but you can fold the rear seats down to open up the cargo capacity to 712 litres.

So, compared to its two-seater sports car rivals, the TT is relatively and pleasantly practical.

For passengers, as you’d expect, the LS is stellar. The massive outboard rear seats offer plenty of room, and are complete with reclining, message, and cooling functions.

Adjustable vents feature, with quad-zone climate, and the screens come with individual headphone jacks and HDMI-in so you can bring with you all sorts of entertainment options for those longer journeys.

Other suitable additions worth noting include the wine cooler (although it’s a bit small for anything other than minibar-sized beverages, hardly the 007 trope of rolling out a full-size bottle of Bollinger), flip-down mirror with a light in the roof, and the touch panel controls in the armrest. I also appreciate the built-in sunshades. Nice touch.

Less impressive is the general vibe of the middle seat. With a large raised centre split in the floor and such wide and lavish outboard seats, the middle seat feels a bit forgotten.

Up front, the practicality offering includes a high level of adjustability for the seats to suit a wide range of driving positions, electrical adjust even for the steering column, and a nice wide seat which you simply sink into.

Of course, soft finishes adorn even unseen parts of the cabin so you’ll never touch a nasty hard plastic, and there are large storage areas in both the doors and centre console box.

This big armrest console also hides the USB connectivity within, and there’s a set of big cup holders with a flip-away lid if you want the wood grain design uninterrupted when they are not in use.

I have to mention the useless touchpad controller here, but hand the brand props for offering a collection of climate shortcut buttons on the dash, an actual volume knob, and truth be told you don’t need the touchpad anyway because the screen is touch. Just be ready for the matching last-generation software, which isn’t the best to use or navigate.

The boot has a volume of 440 litres which sounds plentiful, but the actual use of it is a reminder of one of the reasons SUVs are so popular.

Yes, it’s big and reasonably deep, but putting the largest CarsGuide case in there proved a bit clumsy as you have to lift it over the tall rear bumper and it only just clears the top of the relatively small opening.

I love sedans, but this is one area where you can see the benefit of a hatch opening, particularly if you were frequently doing the airport run.

The Lexus LS is it, the flagship sedan in the Japanese premium outfit’s line-up. It’s available in two trim levels, either the borderline aggressive F-Sport or plush Sports Luxury.

It’s also available with two drivetrain choices, with no price difference between them. The F-Sport starts from $195,953, before on-roads, while the one we’re testing here, the Sport Luxury starts from $201,078.

This pricing is below par for big luxury sedans designed to be ridden in rather than driven, making it a relatively good-value proposition straight out of the gate.

The entry-level Mercedes-Benz S-Class (the S450) starts from $243,890, the single version of the BMW 7 Series (740i M Sport) starts from $268,900, leaving only the Audi A8 (50TDI) even close when it comes to pricing, which starts from $202,700. We don’t get its Korean rival, the Genesis G90 in Australia yet.

‘Value’ or not, the LS has its work cut out for it, as this particular corner of the executive transport marketplace is probably more about badge cred than it is logic, and the 500 Sports Luxury is at a further disadvantage, as it doesn’t offer the Lexus unique selling point, a silky smooth hybrid system.

Ask yourself, when it comes down to it, if money was no object would you rather have a Grand Seiko or a Rolex?

Again, logic doesn’t apply, but the Lexus does offer pretty much everything buyers in this class should be after.

Inclusions on every LS are 20-inch alloy wheels, adaptive LED headlights, 12.3-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay, Android Auto, and built-in navigation, a 23-speaker Mark Levinson branded audio system, climate control with interesting ‘infra-red body temperature sensors’, heated and cooled front seats with 28-way power adjust, a heated steering wheel, full four-door keyless entry with push-button start, ambient interior lighting, a panoramic view camera, electric motion-sensing boot, radar cruise, and connected services.

Just to remind you this Sport Luxury grade is the one to be driven in, not drive yourself, unlike the F-Sport alternative it scores dual 11.6-inch rear seat entertainment touch panels with HDMI input, full quad-zone climate, power reclining for the rear outboard seats with message functions, a drop-down armrest console with a climate control panel, electric sunshades for the rear three windows, a cooler box, seat ventilation, and two additional airbags for the rear seats. Proper plush. Wish it came with a driver, too.

Things you miss out on for picking this one? Not much, the F-Sport scores a more aggressive dash, an 'LFA-Style' cluster, bolstered front seats, sport steering wheel, variable gear ratio steering with rear steering, high performance brakes, and active stabilisers.

The TT Final Edition has the same 2.0-litre, four-cylinder, turbo-petrol engine as the regular 45 TFSI TT Coupe with the same 180kW and 370Nm outputs.

The TT is light, though, at only 1460kg and that grunt is enough to slingshot it from 0-100km/h in 5.1 seconds.

The transmission is an eight-speed dual-clutch automatic which sends drive to all four wheels.

Sure, the TTS has more grunt and the TTRS is nothing short of wonderful with its five cylinder powerplant, but the 2.0-litre engine in the Final Edition feels perfectly suited to what is a fun and engaging sports car.

The LS500 packs a 3.4-litre twin-turbocharged V6 petrol engine with impressive peak outputs of 310kW/600Nm.

This engine is designed to replace a V8 in terms of its power and feel, and in a lot of ways it does.

It might surprise you to learn the only other place you’ll see this engine used in Australia is the Toyota LandCruiser 300 Series.

The alternative present in the LS500h is a hybrid version of the same engine, sans the turbos.

With its electric assistance, power outputs are lower than this turbo version, but get close with a combined total of 264kW.

While I like the walloping nature of the turbocharged V6 we drove, I think the hybrid is a no-brainer choice for reasons explained in the driving segment.

Audi says that after a combination of open and urban roads the TT Final Edition should use 7.0L/100km.

My own testing took in a combination of the best country roads and worst city traffic and at the fuel pump I measured 10.9L/100km.

But most of my time was spent in 'Dynamic' drive mode with the fuel-saving idle stop system switched off. 

The TT's 55-litre fuel tank means you should have a range of about 785km.

Given the angry sounds emanating from under the bonnet of this LS every time I put my foot on the accelerator, I was surprised to find overall fuel consumption for the week was surprisingly good.

I used the LS to drive mostly around town, and yet it beat its own urban claim of 14.2L/100km, settling at 12.9L.100km, closer to the combined fuel figure of 10L/100km.

The hybrid is said to nearly halve this consumption, and I’m inclined to believe it based on previous experience with Toyota/Lexus hybrid systems. 

The LS500 requires at least 95RON unleaded fuel and has an 82-litre fuel tank. That means you're looking at a range of around 635km, using our real-world figure.

There are plenty of sports cars out there which are dynamically superb yet uncomfortable to sit in.

But the TT’s cabin is as ergonomic as it is stylish with a great, low sitting position and good pedal feel, a steering wheel that can be adjusted to be just right and still with plenty of space underneath for long legs like mine.

The shifter feels the right distance away, good visibility even out the rear window and plenty of ventilation.  And we haven’t even started driving yet.

The TT Final Edition felt to me how a TT should. Fun. Not overpowered nor brutally firm and not ridiculously loud.

Instead, my drive in the Final Edition, which took me along some of my favourite country roads, was one of the most enjoyable runs I’ve had in any car. 

This is a car which ‘listens’ to you and replies with exactly what you’ve asked for in the way it turns into corners and accelerates out of them, and pulls up when you need it too. 

There’s so much connection to the road, you can hear the sticks and stones flying up into the guards, you can feel the coarse chip bitumen through the steering wheel.

But it’s all so easy, too. The suspension is firm but soft enough that you can drive this daily. The steering is light but still with great feedback. 

Some sports cars leave you feeling exhausted, like you’ve just wrestled a bear but the TT Final Edition just leaves you feeling like you've been on a ride and all you want to do is run back around to line up and get back on it again.

For a seemingly very sophisticated car, there’s something decidedly unsophisticated about the way the LS500 feels from behind the wheel.

Immediately, it feels nowhere near as cutting edge or even as special as something like the LC500, which to me becomes the truest expression of everything Lexus.

No, the LS500 in this turbo V6 guise feels a little bit too old-fashioned. It’s quiet and under acceleration feels like a V8 of just a few years ago, but the Aisin-sourced traditional torque converter automatic transmission is, dare I say, ordinary, lacking the finesse of its German rivals. It’s a problem which is easily solved. Pick the hybrid.

Elsewhere the experience is decidedly Lexus. If you’ve driven even an IS the experience is very familiar in the LS. The touchpoints all match, the steering is light and smooth with a healthy serve of electrical assistance, and, for the most part, the ride is as floaty and comfortable as you’d expect.

I say ‘for the most part’ because there are limits to what the LS’s adjustable-height air suspension will filter out on the enormous 20-inch wheels, complete with run-flat tyres.

Small bumps and potholes are dispatched with ease. Anything too large which passes a certain thud-factor will definitely be communicated to the cabin, though, making for a strange all-or-nothing ride quality.

It is impeccably silent inside, though. The engine is distant, even under load, and tyre noise is virtually non-existent thanks to specially designed alloy wheels with hollow chambers designed to minimise this effect. Now that’s more like what I expect from a Lexus.

It handles very well for such a big unit, making it at least decent to drive for the few buyers who will actually take the helm themselves.

This is no land yacht, it’s a surprisingly agile and adept machine when faced with a bit of blacktop. And it's here where the turbocharged V6 comes into its own compared to the hybrid, offering superior driver engagement.

This Sports Luxury version of the LS500 has everything and then some. The usual key highlights are included: high-speed radar based auto emergency braking with pedestrian and cyclist detection as well as intersection assist and fully adaptive cruise control, lane keep assist with lane departure warning, blind spot monitoring with rear cross traffic alert, rear auto braking, traffic sign assist, adaptive headlights, and a panoramic parking camera.

Specific to the Sports Luxury is two additional rear airbags for a total of 12. Despite this thorough suite of equipment, the LS has not been tested by ANCAP.

The TT Final Edition is covered by Audi’s five-year, unlimited kilometre warranty.

Serving is recommended every 12 months or 15,000km and although Audi doesn't have capped price servicing there is a five-year/75,000km plan which will cost about $3000 in total for regular maintenance. Yep, that's $600 per workshop visit.

Lexus offers a five-year and unlimited kilometre warranty, and LX buyers get three years of complimentary membership to the brand’s ‘Encore Platinum’ owner experience, which includes three years of capped price servicing, free loan cars at the time of service, invites to events, discounts on fuel at Ampol outlets, and four uses of ‘Lexus On Demand’ which lets owners swap into another Lexus model for up to eight days at a time, as well as eight free uses of valet parking at certain locations.

Servicing on the LS occurs once every 12 months or 15,000km and is fixed for the first three years at $595. Very cheap for the space it plays in.