Lexus LS vs Hyundai Veloster

What's the difference?

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.

Another good bit of Berry wisdom was the idea that the Turbo is the sweet spot of the range. While the Premium is indeed packed with goodies, they're not must-haves - the Turbo has everything you need while the Premium adds the wants.

So, at its core, this Turbo Premium is good warm hatch fun in a wacky, head-turning body, wrapped around a good cabin that could be a little less plasticky. Best of all, the fun design matches the fun-to-drive personality. It's a thoroughly modern Hyundai and I want (even more) to drive the full-fat bonkers N version we look like we're not going to get.

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.

You do not have to find the Veloster pretty to think it's cool. You can see echoes of the i30 donor car that lurks under the more interesting metal, with a big grille, sharper headlights and plenty of black bits to up the aggro for the Turbo model.

The rear bumper sports a pair of drainpipe-sized exhausts that aren't afraid to bellow a bit.

It's different from right to left in profile, with the rear door almost disappearing into the rear haunches on the passenger side. The high rear glass may not be great for seeing out of but it helps keep the Veloster identifiable and influential - there are more than a few cars getting about sporting a similar high rump with big lights.

The cabin is, like its predecessor, fairly restrained and very i30-like. It's all put together very well and is only let down by the centre console's plastics being a bit hard, scratchy and insubstantial.

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.

I think the Veloster is very clever. M'colleague Richard Berry thinks the third door is a bit silly - say, like a third armpit. I'm of the opinion it's an exceptionally clever solution to a problem: how do I have a funky car without throwing the baby out with the bathwater?

Something like a three door hatch (yes, I know they're out of vogue) makes moving people about difficult even if you only do it occasionally. The Veloster's third door provides relatively easy access to the two back seats for people under about 150cm, and you can get okay access to a baby seat. Try that in an 86.

The new door aperture is quite a bit bigger than the old car and there is a bit more rear headroom which I'd still call marginal for my 179cm frame. Leg and knee room are okay, sitting behind my own driving position.

The boot is a useful if not staggering 303 litres. You have four cupholders across the two rows and door pockets in the front doors. Ahead of the gear selector you'll find a tray with the Qi charging pad and two USB connections, but only one will work with the stereo and is marked as such.

Remarkably, Hyundai has just dropped the second-generation Veloster in Australia. I was convinced it would be a one-hit wonder, but here we are with the replacement for the SR Turbo of the first-generation, the $41,990 Veloster Turbo Premium with a seven-speed dual-clutch auto transmission.

It also has 18-inch alloys with sticky Michelin Pilot Sport 4 tyres, an eight-speaker stereo, sat nav, electric windows and mirrors, keyless entry and start, climate control, reversing camera, rear parking sensors, auto LED headlights, auto high beam, auto wipers, heated and ventilated electric front seats, sunroof, Qi wireless charging pad, head-up display, leather trim and a space-saver spare.

A 7.0-inch screen on the dash runs the media system, with a sat nav, Apple CarPlay and Android Auto. It all works very nicely and the generally ho-hum Infinity speakers do a solid if unspectacular job of filling the cabin with noise.

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.

The 1.6-litre turbo-petrol four-cylinder is a familiar sight in Hyundais, in this case offering up 150kW at 6000rpm and 265Nm between 1500 and 4500rpm, which is a nice wide torque curve. Power goes to the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission.

Performance is swift rather than startling, with the Veloster's 1350kg cracking the ton in the 7.1 seconds, 0.6 seconds quicker than the manual.

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.

Hyundai claims you'll get 6.9L/100km on the combined cycle. As ever, Hyundai is unusually close to real world figures, with my indicated average landing at a very respectable 8.2L/100km in a fairly urban kind of week.

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.

I was fortunate enough to have some time on my hands, so I volunteered to take the base spec Veloster to Hyundai to swap into the Turbo. And look, it's fine, but in the same way the second-to-last-Celica was fine - nothing to write home about, more show than go. Comfortable, quiet, hatchy.

And the Turbo is many of those things. Except, as in the i30, when you step up to the turbo engine it wakes up a chassis that is truly terrific.

While it rides really, really well, it also piles through corners with even more enthusiasm than a similarly powered i30 N-Line, which is no slouch.

The Veloster is lower and slightly lighter, adding to the fun. And it doesn't spend half the time hitting the bump stops like the old car.

There are almost no duds in the Hyundai range when it comes to ride and handling, but the steering is in another league compared to the outgoing model's.

It's quick and points the car where you want, the front end digging in and tracking clean and true. It's terrific fun.

But, like just about every other Hyundai, its compliance and daily drivability is super-impressive. Only bad roads upset the rear suspension but the front is largely unflappable.

Flappable is the dual-clutch transmission. It occasionally hunts around looking for a gear and I spent a lot of time pulling the paddles to get it to do the right thing.

It was particularly recalcitrant downshifting without manual intervention, no matter what drive mode I chose. It can also clunk a bit when it's confused. I reckon I'd take Richard's advice and stick with a manual.

This Veloster arrives with six airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls, lane keep assist, blind spot warning, rear cross traffic alert, forward collision warning and forward AEB with pedestrian detection.

Although not rated by ANCAP at the time of writing, the Turbo and Turbo Premium are likely to score a maximum five stars.

The lower grade - as with other newer Hyundais with the lower spec AEB - is probably going to drop a star.

Both rear seats score an ISOFIX and top tether anchor point.

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.

As always, Hyundai's solid five year/unlimited kilometre warranty is along for the ride. Slightly annoyingly, you'll need to return to your dealer every 12 months or 10,000km for scheduled service and prices are capped.

Four of the five services cost $299 with the fourth year at $375. Over the first five services, you'll average $314.