Progress is a remarkable thing. I’ve been writing about the BMW M3 for almost all the 21 years that have passed since its introduction. The original had a 2.3 litre four-cylinder engine, tuned to within an inch of its life to give 200bhp at 6750rpm, and after my first proper go in one I had to stop in a layby just to give my heart a chance to slow down.

Today I’ve been driving the latest M3. It has not four cylinders but eight; its engine displaces 3999cc and develops 420bhp at a barely believable 8300rpm. If things had progressed in a straight line over the past couple of decades, it should have put me in a coronary care unit.

The fact that I am writing this from a hotel rather than a hospital bed and that not once during my time at its wheel did my heart rate rise above an amble suggests strongly that they have not.

In fact the M3 is all grown up. The original was conceived not out of BMW’s desire to offer an affordable, practical yet utterly thrilling car, but simply because the rules in touring car racing at the time forced manufacturers to build road-going versions of what they wanted to race.

The result was a pure-bred, track-honed, lightweight miracle, the memory of which can still get everyone from hardbitten motoring hacks to BMW board members to go all misty eyed. Describing something quick as “a racing car for the road” is a hackneyed expression these days, but the old M3 was.

But the idea and, as a result, its execution has been continually refined over what is now four entirely distinct generations of M3. We have now reached the point where the car has more power than the most powerful Ferrari of 20 years ago, yet is no less refined or comfortable than a standard 3-series BMW.

I am near lost in admiration for what BMW’s engineers or, more accurately, their finest brains who work in the “M” division, have achieved with this car. Bravely, BMW decided to launch it in southern Spain, where road surfaces can vary from among the best in Europe to the worst, sometimes in the same corner. There’s a curious sheen on some of the worn-out sections of tarmac that you soon learn has all the adhesive qualities of wet cardboard. Yet the M3, despite all that power and the absence of four-wheel drive, coped with imperious ease.

It rode ably over the worst undulations and used its power to shorten straights to the point of insignificance. And the engine, essentially four-fifths of the V10 used in the M5, goes on revving until every fibre within you says it can rev no more, whereupon it revs some more. Yet ease off the throttle, set the controls to cruise and it is at once as meek and docile as a small shopping car.

It is an astonishing ground-coverer, a practical everyday car (unlike most coupés, those rear seats will accommodate humans), and likely to become the most coveted coupé in the country that a little more than £50,000 can buy when sales begin on September 8. BMW knows this market and, as ever, has judged it well.

But admiring and desiring are not the same thing. I admire the art of nouvelle cuisine but I’d rather have a proper meal, and the truth is that, even after 100 miles on some of the Continent’s most challenging roads, the M3 left me hungry for more. Not more raw power, but something less tangible and easy to define, but no less important for that: I’ll call it driver interaction.

Truth is, the M3’s steering is a touch too numb, the brakes too light. The engine is neither particularly smooth nor fabulous to listen to. The interface between engine and gearbox is not as seamless as it should be. And, for what it’s worth, I think the car looks fussy and inelegant. On every objective measure the M3 is a masterpiece, but subjectively I found it slightly wanting.

But my views say as much about me as this broadly fine new car. I know a number of people who either own or have owned the outgoing model of M3, and while all regard themselves as enthusiast drivers, they don’t wish to sample the limit of their car’s capability, they’re just happy knowing that it’s there.

Were it possible to create a car that felt as good today as did the first M3 in 1986, people would buy into it.

Except it’s not possible. This M3 weighs almost half a ton more than the original because of safety and comfort features, and it’s this that blunts the feel of the car.

Reducing weight helps performance, handling, economy and emissions, but even BMW – better than most at keeping weight under control – admits it is horrendously difficult to achieve in the current market. Adding horsepower is a doddle by comparison.

For most people this new M3 will be everything they could want from an everyday, high-performance coupé, and to them I fully recommend it. But for those few as interested in the feel of the steering as the punch of the engine, it is worth pointing out that BMW’s decision to raise the price of the M3 from about £42,000 to £50,625 has brought it within reach of the Porsche 911, which starts at £58,688.

The Porsche may have cramped rear seats and a small boot, but it is more than a quarter of a ton lighter, and will raise your pulse rate more on one good stretch of road than the M3 could on an entire motorway. That may be irrelevant to many, while to some it will be the most important consideration. I am one of them.

Vital statistics

Model BMW M3

Engine type 3999cc, eight cylinders

Power/Torque 420bhp @ 8300rpm / 295 lb ft @ 3900rpm

Transmission Six-speed manual

Fuel/CO2 22.8mpg / 295g/km

Acceleration 0-62mph: 4.8sec

Top speed 155mph (limited)

Price £50,625

Verdict Immensely able but not as much fun as you’d think

Date of release September 8

The opposition

Model Audi RS 4 £51,030

For Four doors, great looks, engine and handling

Against Lack of room in the back, expensive

Model Porsche 911 Carrera £58,688

For Fabulous handling, characterful engine, image

Against Rear seats, small boot, fiddly switchgear

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