A 48 volt hybrid system lends these muscular all-wheel-drive V8 monsters extra life.

identical kapow but more practical and cheaper … that’s why we’d take the RS6 AVant (above) over the RS7, but either way these are impressive cars.

Base price: $218,900 (RS6) and $228,900 (RS7)

Powertrain and economy: 4.0-litre turbo-petrol V8, 441kW/800Nm, 8-speed automatic, AWD, combined economy 11.4/11.5 litres per 100km, CO2 262-264 g/km.

Vital statistics: 4995/5009mm long, 1951mm wide, 1460/1422mm high, 2929mm wheelbase, luggage capacity 565/ 535 litres, 22-inch alloy wheels.

We like: Hefty technology update, improved driving feel, wagon format.

We don't like: Quirky haptic controls, enhanced width fills an angle park.

WITH the course toward electric so obviously set, what compells Audi to continue to pump out V8 petrol-reliant RS product?

Fair question. Assuredly, whatever’s fuelled introduction of mid-life revised RS6 wagon and RS7 Sportback cars and something wholly new, an RS edition of the Q8 sports utility, it isn’t a rethink about electrification.

That’s happening. VW Group’s commitment is beyond question and anyone keeping up with e-tron news will know Audi taking leadership. Moreover, the pace of changeover is ramping up.

Yet, thing is, we’re in a period of transition; rather than go totally cold turkey, it makes better sense to wean gradually. So, while one day Renn Sport as we know it now will undergo radical change, this isn’t the time for it.

Not that Audi and its performance arm hasn’t started cutting back. Phase one has been a gradual downsize in engine capacity (and cylinder count). Phase two is what the update RS6 and RS7 now deliver. A 48-volt hybrid driveline that works in tandem with the TSFI 4.0-litre twin turbo V8 is quite significant on the technical scale.

But what difference does it really make? Well, I’d be reluctant to deride the tagline for this marriage, ‘high-performance meets high efficiency,’ as a falsehood. The lithium ion battery enabler and a cylinder deactivation system have positive effect on economy and emissions.

However, let’s face it: This a performance V8. There are no miracle cures. Achieving the cited optimal economy of 11.4 litres per 100km will require a deliberation potentially unfamiliar to the buyer set and the claimed 261 grams per kilometre emissions output remains high enough to earn a Green blacklisting.

Yet even if it was political impetus more than anything else that demanded adding in electrification and its power source, a small lithium-ion battery in the rear of the vehicle, you can achieve positives.

Soft-shoeing the throttle might be against the RS credo, but it will ease the pain of fuel burn; go lightly enough and it’ll actually off the engine from 21kmh as you slow to a stop. And if you find a long enough flat straight in the 100km zone it’ll also occasionally run purely on electric impetus, albeit for no more than 40 seconds. That’s also the environment in which the cylinder-on-demand function, that deactivates four of the eight cylinders, leaving it to run as a V4, is also most likely to action. Audi says that this can help to reduce fuel consumption by up to 0.8 litres/100km and, similar to the engine-off mode, once more throttle is applied, the dormant cylinders immediately reactivate. Is that enough to save the icecaps from melting? Probably not. But it’s a start.

Plus, it keeps this story from finishing early. Keeping this engine relevant and fighting fit in an increasingly steep challenge for Audi, but you can understand why they keep trying. It’s an amazing thing.

EV fans might feel they’re point-scoring in reminding that there are battery cars – including one soon to join the local Audi family – that feel as oomph-laden and will quite possibly match their impressive 0-100kmh times of 3.6 seconds. Fair enough, it’s true.

Yet that ohm team will be rendered silent when asked to nominate anything battery-reliant sold here that matches, let alone betters, these dinosaur-juiced sister ships for absolute stomp. It’s certainly not going to be a Hyundai Kona, or even a Tesla Model S.

And yes, as much as it seems lunatic to suggest the ability to clock 250kmh (or, after a slight factory-sanctioned tweak, slightly more than 300kmh) is of any kind of importance in a country where 100kmh is the absolute limit … well, it nonetheless still does. Likewise, the RS cars might also sell simply on strength of their brilliantly Jurassic soundtracks. I agree, it all seems a bit juvenile. And yet … well, damned if I can’t help but get excited by it.

In respect to tailpipe tone, it’s intriguing that the RS7 has a noticeably louder exhaust than the wagon alternate given that it is the quieter-looking product at the kerbside, regardless that this time around the hatchback option is more hunkered than it previously was. This is as result of consumer feedback; existing customers told Ingolstadt the previous gen car just didn’t have enough visual cojones.

And now? Well, it’s definitely more muscled, being 40mm wider than the standard A7, a reprofiling that means just the bonnet, front doors, roof and tailgate are shared. It also has the same big wheel arches as the RS6, and filling those openings in NZ-spec are 22-inch rims. So, yeah, it looks a whole heap more aggressive.

Yet, and maybe it was because of the paint choice for the testers (a lily-white RS6 seems almost oxymoronic, a metallic grey Avant just perfect), the wagon just continues to be all the more imposingly feral in its appearance. That impression imparts with the bodyshapes’ relative substance, for sure, but also the cars’ common face: The unique grille design and the additional ventilation ports on the lower corners of the bumper (to aid thermal management), plus those matrix LED laser headlights just seem to engender more malevolence in the hauler.

From the inside, at least when looking forward, the cars are of a muchness; abetting the usual displays found in all upmarket Audis are additional touches are specific to the RS product, such as instant read-outs for power and torque that, quite amusingly, show how very little of each is required to hold these cars at a 100kmh pace. Everything you need to know when driving and not wanting to release your eyes from scanning the roadscape comes up digitally on the main screen and in a head-up display.

The improvement this time around comes with two RS buttons that serve direct routes to pre-set driving modes and chassis settings. There are also the traditional buttons and centre screen accesses that allow switching between the myriad of settings, of course, but the shortcut buttons seem a safer idea.

Both are five-seater models (that’s new for RS7 as the old one’s back bench was shaped for two), with very luxurious fittings, but not so plush in appointment that you wouldn’t think twice about making use of the practical elements. They are, in short, still expected to be used as everyday cars.

Buy the Sportback and you get a vast but shallow boot holding up to 535 litres, or 1390 litres when the rear seats are dropped down. Sounds good? Well, in isolation, it is. But if filling the boot is a requisite requirement, fact is the $10,000 cheaper RS6 presents a significantly higher value return; 30 litres more capacity with the back seats up is modest – drop these, though, and the load-all is vastly more commodious. That, and the fact that the wagon just looks better, would seal it for me.

But surely the practicality comes at expense of punch? Not at all. For all its extra aural aggression, that the RS7 is pretty mush equally pegged by the wagon, not just in any sprint but in driving feel, too. That might sound weird, given the RS6 just looks to be so much bigger, but really it isn’t. Weight-wise, they’re both similar: That is, heavy, at over two tonne each, but the load-all is just 10kg lardier.

Such is the crushing oomph from the engine that the kilo count doesn’t seem to any sort of imposition; these RS sister ships are capable of moving at quite phenomenal rate.

Just as well, then, that the packages a whole are designed to take that into account. You’ll be especially pleased with the monster brakes gripped by huge callipers; without condoning recklessness on the road, if you are intending on going briskly, having the best brakes possible is usually a good idea. Likewise great quality rubber and well-sorted suspension. Audi ticks those boxes, too.

As strange as it might sound, the cars’ ability to run hard without much in the way of theatrics beyond the rumbly exhaust note is part of the appeal. Salute, as always, that quattro all-wheel-drive technology, which includes a mechanical centre differential and an RS-tuned sport differential on the rear axle. Providing a 40:60 front-to-rear split, and up to 70 percent of power to the front axle or up to 85 percent to the rear, depending on the situation, it’s an astoundingly adept accomplice. Also influencing with subtlety is the cleverly-integrated rear wheel steering. You only realise how good it is when twigging how easily, confidently and accurately the cars handle direction changes under accelerative load, without tyre squeal or body lean.

The RS models sit 20mm lower than their donors, and when the speed surpasses 120kmh, the ride height reduces by a further 10mm to optimise aerodynamics and aid stability, and Sports Suspension with Dynamic Ride Control is standard in NZ spec.

In this, the shock absorbers are diagonally opposed, meaning the front left is hydraulically linked though a central valve with the rear right, and vice versa. This setup works to reduce pitch and roll movements when cornering at higher speeds and when driving quickly it works well. What also impresses is that this update also brings better absorption from the suspension when put into its softest setting. It’s not outright supple, but neither is it as unremittingly solid as Comfort used to be. The alternate Sports adjustment is, of course, very solid.

No debating the ultimate star of the show. Assessed purely on its performance, the powerplant is a stunner, not simply because it delivers virtually obscene grunt – though, in saying that, what’s remarkable is that the RS Q8 has another 100Nm still – but also because of how all that muscularity unfolds.

Give it hell and the consequences are … well, basically supercar-like. Yet even when taken into the utterly feral zone, you can trust it in part simply because the throttle has been so deftly weighted. It’s a crazy mo-fo this unit, no argument, yet not so hair-trigger berserk that the slightest twitch or sneeze won’t unleash utter mayhem. As momentous and visceral as the grunt is, these are cars of everyday capability.

How much longer this can go on for is a good question. All big-lunged petrol engines are now on notice. It says a lot about the calibre of these cars that they still feel more relevant than they conceivably should in the here and now. To be fair, that’s not just because of the mechanical changes; refinements to the chassis and also the steering response have done a lot to answer criticism of the preceding cars’ being overly-sanitised in feel. For sure, these still impart as big rigs on a tight country road, the Avant especially, but they do position very accurately when asked and don’t feel as overwhelming as you imagine.

It’s interesting that Audi Sport’s intention for the immediate future is to keep fettling petrol-addicted product, albeit moreso from the SUV side of the family from now on.

Without meaning to sound deprecating, as useful as the added drivetrain tech is, when driving these cars, the sense is that more that you’re getting to the last chapter of a great story.