But that is to sell it seriously short, because a DB7 is a lot more than the sum of its parts. It still looks terrific, more so in the original supercharged straight-six guise before the V12, its higher pace calling for a facelift with less lift-inducing aerodynamics, arrived and spoilt the delicacy. 'I don't want to do this,' Callum told Bob Dover, now running Aston Martin after Hayes' retirement. 'You'll have to, or I'll get someone else to do it,' Dover retorted. Which, Callum reckoned, would have made him feel even worse.
The DB7 was launched at the 1994 Geneva show, even before it had achieved Ford approval ('Don't worry about that,' Walter Hayes had told the Aston team), and everyone loved it. Today it remains the most affordable Aston Martin apart from the tiny Toyota iQ-based Cygnet, yet despite its mongrel genes, it laid the foundation for today's Aston Martin company. Without the DB7, the company might not exist today. To me, 27 years on, that surely says 'classic car'.
It's a tale of a tiny company able to move more deftly than its corporately quagmired parent could ever notice and allowed to do so because Ford of Europe's then boss, Jac Nasser, was a petrolhead. Nasser has now bought a DB7 with his own money. 'I hope it's an early one,' quips Callum.