I was aware of BMW having such sacrilegious technology. It’s wrong. It’s immoral. It’s blasphemous. It’s cheating. It’s witchcraft dabbled in by dark engineers seeking to artificially enhance the sound of an engine that shouldn’t need enhancing.
But here!? On a straight-six in a frisky little rocket Bimmer that happens to be the exact sort of car I love? Is this what I’d heard on the highway earlier? Did this unnatural aural sorcery cause the giant grin on my man-mug earlier in the day?
No. Oh god. No, no, no. Had I just enjoyed the fake exhaust noise in a hot little BMW without even realizing it?
I had.
Dave had pulled up something on his cell phone and pointed it towards me.
“Ya, Pritch. See? BMW M235i, Active Sound Control, it says it right here.”
I recoiled in horror. Dave started reading about Active Sound Control to me.
“It’s a system which enhances the performance sound experience by…”
“SHUT UP!” I yelled. “I… feel funny… I need to… go home…” I said, clutching my stomach and running for the driver’s door.
I felt filthy. Violated. Taken advantage of. My eardrums had been defiled by this awful, gorgeous counterfeit sound. I hated myself. I hated that I liked it. I wanted to burn my clothes, douse myself in bleach, and jump naked out of a window.
Crap. I was all out of bleach.
So, instead, it became my little secret. I never spoke a word of the fake noise system to anyone. And, for the rest of the week, at full throttle, I glanced around to make sure nobody would see the smile on my mug.
Fake engine noise is a filthy thing. But you know what? It sounds great. And I sort of liked it.