Our cars have evolved passed the ideals we've ascribed to their predecessors. They're safer, but heavier. They stick better, but don't communicate as clearly. They're more powerful, but are chock full of electronics to keep us from killing ourselves. This is progress to most of the world. But to most of the world, we're weird. And so that progress comes at the expense of the characteristics we weirdos hold dear.

Such is the case with BMW's M Division products. Every new model is bigger and better and more than before, creating an endless cycle of chassis code bereavement. The E30 was the "best," followed up by the "bloated" E36, which, decades later, became an icon of lightweight simplicity. This phenomenon repeats until reaching its natural zenith—in this case, praise for the E90. Step away from the backward-looking hype cycle, and the fact remains that they're all pretty fantastic cars, with flaws great and small, just like the humans who designed and built them.

There's something different with this sixth generation M5, though. Here, BMW's relentless pursuit of more has a duality to it. For 2018, the M5 gains all-wheel-drive and an eight-speed automatic as the standard (and only) transmission, but manages to be lighter and more intuitive than the rear-driven F10 it replaces. There are more electronics, but they're smarter, with a "central intelligence unit" (CIU? Sure) running M-tuned software enabling massive levels of control—including a DSC-off, RWD-only mode—that's somehow simple to use.

BMW is trying to give us our cake and have us eat it, all while doing 0-60 in around 3.5 seconds, in a high-performance sports sedan that's meant to be more appealing to the masses. Something has to give, right?

This evolution began in earnest a few years ago, as anyone paying attention to the M C-suite is aware.

"Four-wheel-drive is one of my intense hobbies," Frank van Meel deadpans at BMW's Autodrome de Miramas test track in France. That's an understatement from the man who, before taking over as head of BMW M, led Audi's Quattro division. His hiring, along with the recent spate of M Sport-badged models infiltrating the mass-market lineup, proved that the era of RWD-only M cars was coming to an end.

From the onset, it was clear that the M5 was destined to benefit from this drivetrain switch, if for no other reason than, as one engineer put it, "it's much too much power for only two tires."

That power comes from a familiar mill: A modified version of the S63 4.4-liter twin-turbocharged V8 that stars in the current M5. BMW wouldn't give numbers ahead of the official reveal (look to the Frankfurt Motor Show this fall), but figure 600-plus horsepower and around 550 pound-feet of torque for the new M5. Both bumps are courtesy of higher injection pressures and new turbos, which, after some ribbing, were divulged to have a redesigned compressor wheel and reworked housings. The lighter, more direct exhaust system frees up the flow; our nearly-production-spec, camouflaged prototypes were set to run with the baffles open, making for a growling start and a pissed-off idle. Here's hoping that mode makes it to market.

So the news clearly isn't the engine, but it's not exactly the AWD system either. It's the additional driven wheels combined with the ZF eight-speed M Steptronic gearbox that shows the way forward.

Yes, it's a torque-converter slush-box. BMW engineers maintain it's smoother and more efficient than a dual-clutch setup, requires less maintenance, and provides the perfect ratio no matter where you land in the revs. Based on a short, controlled, sometimes sideways drive, that's all true, as is the fact that this ZF box is standard issue on the BMW M235i customer race car. The trick bit, though, is how the lock-up clutch connects as soon as the throttle detects movement, making the connection between foot and wheels just a little bit quicker—something you need when you're working with all-wheel-drive.

So "M xDrive" is here. The M5 is the first application. BMW had to brand it. Get used to it.

It's a suite of components that includes the aforementioned CIU's accelerometer wizardry controlling the center multi-plate clutch. That, in turn, sends power to the front driveshafts and the Active M diff with carbon plates powering the rear wheels. The default is 100-percent torque to the rear. Until you start pushing it. Or it gets wet. Or you start pushing it when it gets wet.

Even in the default DSC mode, you can get a bit of slip from the rear wheels, enough to let you know how much grip is available from the 20-inch summer rubber. Where things get interesting is when you get into M Dynamic Mode. This setting begins with 4WD Sport, retaining the rear bias, but smoothly—if perceptibly—feeding power to the front wheels just before it's needed. This would be enough for 90 percent of your commute-slash-therapy situations. But they couldn't leave it at that, because of weirdos like us. And computers.

With the Dynamic Stability Control (DSC) set to off, you can toggle through three modes: 4WD, 4WD Sport, and 2WD. This unholy trifecta allows you to do naughty things.

Whipping around the Autodrome—first in wet, then dry conditions—provides a full, if brief, demonstration of the new M5's capabilities. Somehow, the layer of disconnect experienced in the outgoing F10-generation M5 is diminished here, despite all that extra hardware and software waiting to feed power to the front wheels. It's later confirmed that the steering rack is 25 percent quicker compared to the old model, and a glance underneath answers the question about unsprung weight: Unique M-stamped wishbones attached to the carbon-ceramic brake hardware.

But the lack of hesitation between flexing the right ankle and eliciting just the right amount of power to one or both axles is revelatory. There's no pause or hesitation when dipping into the throttle—just an unwavering connection between the engine, transmission, diffs, and driveshafts, an additional layer that dissolves on the way to all four wheels.

Situated in the heavily bolstered sports seats, the interior camouflage covers nearly everything. What stands out is the new 5-series's larger head-up display, now with revs and drive mode, along with a red glowing instrument panel with a big gear indicator in the middle. Along the center console is a redesigned shifter with the Park button moved to the face, making room for a rocker switch to cycle through three Drivelogic modes (read: shift programs).

Toggling from 4WD to 4WD Sport with DSC off is right up to the capabilities of damn near every owner in the market. The latter is Timo Glock's favorite setting.

"The car is always a step ahead," he says after another lap around the test track. "No matter what you do ... it brings you to the limit without being scary."

Being scared is reserved for the DSC-off, 2WD mode. Remember what the engineer said about "much too much power"? Take it as fact, and a reminder that this is still more than two tons of luxury sedan attempting to be manhandled with grace.

That reminder is the problem with us weirdos. But the technology is at the point where we can indulge in a modern interpretation of the past, in the same car that can responsibly schlep us through our daily lives. That's what a good sports sedan should deliver. And that's what the new M5 has brought back.

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