106 CARMAGAZINE.CO.UK | APRIL 2019
But Singer really wanted to use the ducktail, so Williams suggested
lowering the centre section of the roof and creating a small floating panel
at the trailing edge to channel air down to the wing. It’s a beautiful solu-
tion: there’s no meaningful loss of headroom – handy if you need to wear a
helmet inside – and no dilution of the classic 911 silhouette.
It’s beneath that spoiler, though, that the DLS’s star feature lurks: a
500bhp 4.0-litre flat six capable of registering over 9000rpm on an overly
vintage-looking, but no doubt hugely expensive, revcounter that interior
guru Imogen Howarth says is her favourite part of the cabin. The key to
creating that power is a pair of four-valve heads that open up the breathing
bottleneck in the standard 12-valve motor.
‘We consulted with [legendary Porsche engine designer] Hans Mezger
and he told us they’d started developing four-valve heads back in the early
’70s,’ explains Maz. ‘But then turbocharging came along and it offered
huge power relatively easily – though at the expense of throttle response
and sound.’ Sound familiar? Maz has just neatly summed up the problem
with too many modern performance cars; the DLS-informed Singer resto-
rations are the antidote.
He notes: ‘I’m blown away by the technology on modern supercars but I
find them boring at normal speeds. Even at a track they’re a bit too easy. I
can’t be emotional about them. I’m not dying to have one, to look at one, to
drive one. A lot of customers come to us with that same sentiment.’
When the Williams technicians have finished their checks, I buckle into
the passenger seat for another shotgun ride with Maz. The clutch judders
as he pulls out onto the pit straight and there’s that gear chatter again, but
the riot of induction noise as we soar past 9000rpm rings out loud and
clear, the exact opposite of a modern bassy turbo grumble. Singer hasn’t
released any official performance figures – but with 500bhp and around
1100kg, expect a 0-62mph time of less than 4.0sec if you can get the tyres
hooked up.
While rally driver Tuthill is flamboyantly sideways everywhere, Maz
prefers neat and focused, punching through the gears fiercely, but keeping
the car tidy at all times.
‘I don’t have a background in engineering or developing cars, but I have
intuition for it,’ he says. ‘ I know where I want to end up, and I know how to
look for talent. And then I let them do their thing.’ And there’s the genius...
There may still be some dynamic tuning but already the car feels hugely
stable. There’s no sawing at the wheel to keep the line together, no sliding
from either end. But you can see from the focused look on Maz’s face that
he’s fully immersed. This is no point-and-shoot machine.
Everyone here knows they’re among friends, so they don’t hold back.
Harris dislikes the modern shoulder wings on the handsome bucket seats,
championing the tombstone design of classic 911 chairs that prioritise
kidney support but don’t restrict upper body movement; Howarth knows
that Dickinson will demand they stay. Harris would prefer a slightly slower
rack. Maz has no problem with the ratio but is happy if Harris is happy.
Ever-smiling Franchitti just seems happy to be involved in what everyone
knows is one of the most special projects in the car world.
‘The next generation of prototypes, the EP3 cars, are nearly ready,’ says
Maz of the machines that will bridge the gap between the current test cars
and the customer cars upon which work will start in the summer. But even
those will be guinea pigs of sorts.
‘I imagine the first client cars won’t be completely finished,’ he concedes.
‘The first five cars or so – you’re going to learn things as they go out into the
world. But the first few clients are old clients. They know us well. They like
being involved.’
They are also obscenely wealthy. These are the kinds of people who don’t
bat an eyelid at paying $50m for an old Ferrari, who are so rich that they can
order three Singer DLS-informed restorations in one go from the 75-unit
run. ‘It’s hard to say no to these people,’ admits Maz.
But it’s this flush fanbase that gives Singer, a brand now firmly embedded
in the minds of enthusiasts the world over and being taken seriously by
gold-standard suppliers, the opportunity to expand far beyond hot-rod-
ding old 911s.
Yes, there’ll be more 911-based stuff; maybe something more all-terrain,
even more competition focused. But beyond that, who says a Singer has to
be based on a 911, or even a Porsche, or a car?
‘I’m always talking with Rob about what kind of cars we might work on
next,’ says Maz. ‘And they don’t have to be German. We might spot an old
Land Rover drive past and that’ll get us talking about how we could apply
the Singer philosophy to that. For us Singer isn’t a car, it’s a philosophy,’ he
says. ‘It’s an execution. It’s about extraordinary execution.’
There’s no sawing at the
wheel – Maz is neat and
focused. But you can see
from the look on his face
that he’s fully immersed
Imagined in California, developed in England, tested in Spain
Next month:
THE DUKE OF RICHMOND
ON THE GOODWOOD HILL WITH THE MAN BEHIND
THE PHENOMENON
Coffee with CAR