Chasing the Last Great M4: Why I Need This Car Before It’s Gone

Let’s get one thing straight: I am, and always have been, a certified tragic for two-door sports coupés. Some people fall in love with people; I fall in love with silhouettes. Long bonnet, short deck, a roofline that looks like it’s trying to seduce you even when parked. If cars had dating profiles, the M4 would be the one I’d swipe right on before the app even finished loading.

But when BMW dropped the current-generation M4?

Yeah…look. I didn’t love it. That front end looked like two angry pool filters screaming into the void. I wasn’t hating it, but I also wasn’t exactly writing poetry about it. Then, slowly, something strange happened. I kept seeing them. Different colours, different trims, different angles. And one day it clicked: Holy crap…it’s actually hot. Like when that person you never noticed suddenly walks in with a haircut that should be illegal and you realise you’ve been a fool.

Now I find myself dangerously obsessed.

And I think I know why.

We are absolutely on the verge of losing cars like this forever.

BMW, Mercedes, and the automotive Illuminati have made it clear: anything with six or eight cylinders is going hybrid or plug-in hybrid. The AMG C63 is literally a four-cylinder now because someone in a boardroom hates joy. And BMW’s roadmap suggests the next M3/M4 generation, the “Neue Klasse” era, will be a split personality: one electric, one combustion. Fine. Cool. Progress. But here’s the critical bit…

A hybrid or plug-in hybrid M4 cannot be manual.

It’s physically, technologically, spiritually incompatible. (Refer to BMW ‘s new M5 and Mercedes current range of 53 and 63 AMG’s)

Which means this current M4, this slightly controversial, beautifully unhinged, full-fat, twin-turbo straight-six monster, could be the very last manual BMW M4 ever. The swan song. The final chapter. The mic drop. The automotive equivalent of a farewell tour where the band genuinely means it this time.

So if you’ve ever wanted one (or an M3 manual, you four-door heathens) you realistically have 12 to 18 months to get your order in. That’s it. After that, you’ll be battling speculators on Carsales at 3am trying to justify paying $40,000 over sticker because “it’s an investment.”

And yes, I could be wrong. But I also could be extremely right. And history is being written right in front of us whether anyone likes it or not.

But let me be clear: I freaking love where BMW is going next.

The Neue Klasse design language? Inject it into me.

In a previous article I basically professed my undying love for the upcoming iX3, and I stand by it. Every render of the new M3/M4 test mule, every speculative sketch, every fan render, every attempt to peel back that hideous camouflage, hints at something genuinely beautiful. Retro flavour. E30 attitude. Clean lines. Proper presence. It feels like BMW has finally realised that good design isn’t a crime.

I’m excited.

Like, embarrassingly excited.

But here’s the thing…I’m also saving every damn penny I have because if this current M4 really is the last manual, then I’m not missing out. I refuse. I will eat rice, cancel subscriptions, and socially isolate if I must. Because I want one, and not just any one, MY one.

My Dream Spec (AKA “BMW, please let me cook”)

• Exterior: Verde British Racing (Dark British Racing Green) - the deep, moody, elegant shade from BMW Individual (which is absolutely a Ferrari colour but we don’t need to talk about that). The M Carbon Exterior Package.

M Compound brake, black high-gloss and M Alcantara steering wheel. AND one must not forget, M Performance 20″/21″ Cross Spoke 1000M Wheels in matte gold bronze!

• Interior: Tartufo leather, the perfect warm tan…so I’ll miss out on the M Carbon Bucket Seats because the catalogue doesn’t offer it. Which is why I will be quietly but firmly asking a dealer, “Are you sure about that? Are you sure about that?”

• Transmission: The only transmission that matters: 6-speed manual.

• Must-Have: The knowledge that I secured a piece of history before the world got too…appliance-y.

For car people like me, this moment in time is weird. Cars we grew up idolising are disappearing or mutating. Final editions are everywhere. Everything is electrifying, hybridising, digitising, sanitising. And I get it, time marches on. But that doesn’t mean I can’t stop for a second, look at the M4, and think:

I want you before you’re gone. Before everything becomes quiet, instant, and algorithmically perfect.

Because I’ve watched too many legendary final models fade into the sunset while I promised myself, “Next time.”

Well…this is next time.

A little history flex before we wrap up.

The M4 badge only arrived in 2014, when BMW decided the M3 Coupé needed its own identity. Since then we’ve had the F82, sharp, aggressive, beloved and now the G82, which has evolved from “controversial” to “oh damn, it’s a supermodel.” (Albeit with buck teeth). Every generation has pushed power, grip, and tech further. But this one? The G82 manual? It might be the last true analogue pulse BMW ever engineers.

And that matters.

To me.

To a lot of us.

So yes…I’m thinking about you, BMW M4.

And if the universe is kind (and if my bank account stops laughing) hopefully I’ll see you in my garage soon.