Lucid Air Pure: Still Fresh After 40,000 Miles
40,000-Mile WrapThere is one thing the best model lines have in common: The base version offers just as much enjoyment and refinement as the loaded top-of-the-line trim. Prime examples of this are the Porsche 7...
40,000-Mile Wrap
There is one thing the best model lines have in common: The base version offers just as much enjoyment and refinement as the loaded top-of-the-line trim. Prime examples of this are the Porsche 718 and 911, the Honda Accord, the Chevrolet Corvette, and the BMW 3-series (E90 generation and prior). Sure, a GTS 4.0, a Turbo, a Hybrid (V-6 manual, previously), a ZR1, and an M3 are all more powerful, faster, and thrilling, but no matter the trim level, the basic goodness of the car remains intact.
Though still young, the Lucid Air belongs on that list. When the 1111-hp Air Dream Performance launched for 2022, we were bowled over by its clever packaging, mind-bending acceleration, luxurious ride, and EPA range of 451–471 miles. But it cost $170,500. Fast-forward a year or so to the release of the rear-wheel-drive Air Pure. It’s a single-motor variant with a smaller battery, 430 horses, and a starting price that saves you over $90,000. It earned a spot on our 10Best list for 2024 and has remained on it every year since, tying Hyundai’s Ioniq 5 for EVs with three 10Best trophies. But would our love endure over a 40,000-mile test? There was only one way to find out.
With cabernet-red paint, dark-toned exterior trim, an upgraded sound system, and the Comfort & Convenience package (heated steering wheel and outboard rear seats, power sunshades for the rear side windows and the rear windshield, soft-close doors, and four-zone climate control), our Air Pure stickered for $81,350. A luxury price, no doubt, but at the lower end of what a mid-to-full-size luxury car costs these days.
We were all smitten when it arrived. It had all the cachet of the Air Dream, a real-world 75-mph range of 300 miles, and a 60-mph time of 4.3 seconds. Still, staffers found ergonomic quirks: noggin-knockin’ ingress, beefy A-pillars that clipped outward vision, small and ineffective cupholders, and a confusing key fob with a mind of its own. Some struggled with pairing their phones via Bluetooth, but that complaint subsided once the editors discovered the antisocial move of deleting everyone’s phone from the vehicle’s memory. Niggles aside, we loved driving it, and its roomy back seat and spacious trunks meant you didn’t have to sign out an SUV if you needed to move your family around.
The Air wafted to Chicago on weekend trips multiple times. The farthest it ventured from our office was to Virginia International Raceway. Technical assistant Jacob Kurowicki is 99 percent sure he could have made the 600-ish-mile trek from Alton, Virginia, to Ann Arbor with only one stop to recharge, but that one stop didn’t line up with his own metabolic needs, so he did it in two.
Servicing the Lucid was easy, if a bit different from that of traditional luxury brands. The service schedule calls for stops every year or 12,000 miles. Every-other stop is a big one as it brings a brake-fluid flush; we only had one of those at 24,000 miles. Our visits ran $371, $611, and $371, which is on par with other luxury cars. (The Air now includes two years or 24,000 miles of scheduled maintenance at no charge.) Without a dealer network to go to, service visits mean a Lucid technician comes to you, like a doctor making house calls on Little House on the Prairie. We tried to bundle recalls with the visits from the Lucid tech, but a few times, the car was picked up from our office and trailered to the nearest Lucid service center, 86 miles away in Coldwater, Michigan.
The first visit to the service center came at the 7255-mile mark, when someone leaving Costco in a post-hot-dog coma—who hasn’t been there?—inadvertently left their soda in the trunk’s warehouse-haul-swallowing well and drove off. The soda dripped into a fuse box below a low point in the trunk, resulting in intermittent unlocking issues. That $1.50 meal turned into a $693 bill. Later in the Air’s stay, we learned that local glass shops couldn’t replace a cracked windshield because they didn’t yet have the tools to recalibrate the Pure’s advanced driver-assistance systems. That was another $2000 to the damage-and-destruction ledger. Most other windshields we’ve replaced cost $1500 or less.
As we rolled into the 24,000-mile service, the left-rear suspension started to clunk. We suspected a broken anti-roll-bar end link, but Lucid replaced the left-rear damper. A few weeks later, the rattle we heard while going over speed bumps returned. Feeling smug, we brought up the end link as a possibility only to learn that the rear-drive Pure doesn’t have a rear anti-roll bar. We found the culprit during the winter-tire swap: a walnut bouncing around on the top side of a metal skidplate. How it got in there and why the noise seemed to ebb and flow will go down as two of life’s mysteries.
The lack of a rear anti-roll bar surely contributes to the Air’s ability to swallow road imperfections with grace. Anti-roll bars, by their nature, compromise ride quality. Hit a bump on the left side, and the wheel on the right moves up too. The Pure may weigh 4562 pounds, but its steel coil springs, adaptive dampers, and low center of gravity work together to make a rear anti-roll bar unnecessary.
During the winter months, we saw the range fall to about 240-250 miles. Cold temperatures, the related need to blast the interior heat to stay warm, and the higher rolling resistance of winter tires all conspired to shorten stops between charges. We also learned that in slippery conditions, the braking effect of regenerative braking could lock up the rears (because that’s the only driven axle). Every time it happened, the stability control system intervened to stop the skid, but the sensation is not unlike locking up the rear brakes to kick out the tail on a Big Wheel.
The cold also made the latches on the front trunk less reliable. The trunklid has two latches, and the right side would often automatically close itself before we could lift the lid. A tech adjusted it once, but it continued to frustrate us on occasion.
Ice found its way into the active shutters in the grille that aid aerodynamics. After parking the Lucid following a wintry drive, we could hear a small motor’s gear teeth jumping in a futile attempt to close the ice-jammed shutters. Nothing broke, but we found ourselves parking the Air in a heated garage to thaw the freeze.
For all the negative press Lucid has received for its reliability—fire up the World Wide Web; there’s plenty—we had only one instance of nearly having to call an Uber. In late December, research editor Matthew Skwarczek could not lock or start the Air using the inscrutable key fob. The fob lacks outlined buttons, and all the commands are aggravating Morse-code-style pushes (is it short-short-long to open the trunk?). Thinking the problem was the key’s battery, Skwarczek replaced it, and still nothing. He tried the Air’s key card—which looks like a credit card, unlocks the doors when you hold it against the B-pillar, and can turn on the car when it’s near a sensor on the center console, but that didn’t work either. The Lucid phone app does allow the car to be unlocked, and you can turn on the car by punching in a PIN to get it running, which finally allowed Skwarczek to be on his way. A trip to the service center revealed that a module that reads the keys was defective, and it was replaced under warranty. When in doubt, use the app.
At the 40,000-mile final test, the Air was a tenth slower to 60 mph (4.4 seconds) and in the quarter-mile (12.7 seconds at the same 113-mph trap speed). Braking from 70 mph improved to 173 feet (from 190), and skidpad grip dropped a couple of hundredths to 0.83 g. Oddly, the top speed went from a governed 127 mph when new to 125; tires near their service limit (slightly smaller diameter) could be to blame. Brake pads showed almost no wear. The same couldn’t be said for the Stealth Appearance trim, which looked like it had been peppered with bird shot. Its demise was likely a combination of following cars too closely, the many gravel-hauling trucks that roam Michigan interstates, and the almost weekly automatic carwash that cleaned the Air.
Did all the numerous quirks of a new car from a startup automaker turn us off? Not even a little. Throughout its stay, editors could be heard saying, “I’m in the Air tonight,” with joy. Many of our complaints in the logbook about setting up profiles, connecting phones, and the unlocking issues would not apply to an individual owner using their phone as a key. The driving experience couldn’t be better, even after 40,000 miles and two Michigan winters. Visits from the 1234-hp Air Sapphire didn’t even sour us on the exceptional base Pure. “Pure” might be the most honest trim name around.
Rants and Raves
“Wow, this rides silky smooth. It’s among the comfiest-riding cars I’ve driven.” —Caleb Miller
“The front cupholders are inadequate for interstate beverages. Half of the drinks I bought didn’t fit.” —Jacob Kurowicki
“The frunk latch is sticky. It takes multiple taps of the release button to get the damn thing to completely unlatch.” —Greg Fink
“Dolby Atmos is so mesmerizing that I sat in my driveway for half an hour listening to music after getting home.” —Dave VanderWerp
“The A-pillar is too dang low. I keep hitting my head on it when getting in.” —Carlos Lago
“Only issue I had was the frunk not opening. I didn’t need the extra space, but then the car called for washer fluid.“ —Drew Dorian
“This is an antidote to range anxiety. It’s the only EV in our fleet that I’d happily take on a road trip.” —Eric Stafford
Months in Fleet: 24 months Current Mileage: 40,011 miles
Average Fuel Economy: 92 MPGe
Battery Capacity: 88 kWh Observed Driving Range (C/D EST): 280 miles
Service: $1353 Normal Wear: $1652 Repair: $0
Damage and Destruction: $2693
Specifications
Specifications
2024 Lucid Air Pure RWD
Vehicle Type: rear-motor, rear-wheel-drive, 5-passenger, 4-door sedan
PRICE
Base/As Tested: $71,400/$81,350
Options: Surreal Sound Pro audio system (21 speakers with Dolby Atmos technology), $2900; Comfort & Convenience package (heated steering wheel and rear seats, four-zone climate control, soft-close doors, power rear and rear side-window sunshades), $2500; DreamDrive Premium driver assistance (blind-spot display, 360-degree camera system), $2000; Stealth Appearance (darkened exterior accents), $1750; Zenith Red Metallic paint, $800
POWERTRAIN
Motor: permanent-magnet synchronous AC, 430 hp, 406 lb-ft
Battery Pack: liquid-cooled lithium-ion, 88.0 kWh
Onboard Charger: 19.2 kW
Peak DC Fast-Charge Rate: 250 kW
Transmission: direct-drive
CHASSIS
Suspension, F/R: multilink/multilink
Brakes, F/R: 15.0-in vented disc/14.8-in vented disc
Tires: Pirelli P Zero All Season Elect
245/45R-19 102Y M+S PNCS
DIMENSIONS
Wheelbase: 116.5 in
Length: 195.9 in
Width: 76.2 in
Height: 55.4 in
Passenger Volume, F/R: 55/45 ft3
Trunk Volume: 22 ft3
Front Trunk Volume: 10 ft3
Curb Weight: 4562 lb
C/D TEST RESULTS: NEW
60 mph: 4.3 sec
100 mph: 9.8 sec
1/4-Mile: 12.6 sec @ 113 mph
120 mph: 14.4 sec
Results above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.3 sec.
Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 4.4 sec
Top Gear, 30–50 mph: 1.8 sec
Top Gear, 50–70 mph: 2.4 sec
Top Speed (gov ltd): 127 mph
Braking, 70–0 mph: 190 ft
Braking, 100–0 mph: 384 ft
Roadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.85 g
C/D TEST RESULTS: 40,000 MILES
60 mph: 4.4 sec
100 mph: 9.8 sec
1/4-Mile: 12.7 sec @ 113 mph
Results above omit 1-ft rollout of 0.3 sec.
Rolling Start, 5–60 mph: 4.7 sec
Top Gear, 30–50 mph: 1.9 sec
Top Gear, 50–70 mph: 2.4 sec
Top Speed (gov ltd): 125 mph
Braking, 70–0 mph: 173 ft
Braking, 100–0 mph: 354 ft
Roadholding, 300-ft Skidpad: 0.83 g
Interior Sound
Idle: 30 dBA/1 sone
Full Throttle: 70 dBA
70-mph Cruising: 67 dBA/21 sone
C/D FUEL ECONOMY AND CHARGING
Observed: 92 MPGe
75-mph Highway Driving: XX MPGe
75-mph Highway Range: 300 mi
Average DC Fast-Charge Rate, 10–90%: 84 kW
DC Fast-Charge Time, 10–90%: 53 min
EPA FUEL ECONOMY
Combined/City/Highway: 137/140/134 MPGe
Range: 419 mi
WARRANTY
4 years/50,000 miles bumper to bumper
8 years/100,000 miles powertrain
8 years/100,000 miles high-voltage battery
10 years/unlimited miles corrosion protection
4 years/50,000 miles roadside assistance
C/D TESTING EXPLAINED
30,000-Mile Update
Life with an EV from a startup automaker is different. Sometimes worse, sometimes better. Definitively different. For example, when things go wrong, the nearest service center isn't across town next to all the other dealerships. No, the still-young Lucid, like the charging infrastructure in the U.S., hasn't quite reached critical mass when it comes to nationwide service coverage. Think cellular-coverage map circa 1994. Our nearest center is about two hours away in Coldwater, Michigan.
However, like a doctor in centuries past, Lucid makes house calls. If the scheduled work can be performed on-site, a mobile technician comes to you. This was great for our car's first service ($371) at around 17,000 miles—it's normally at 12,000 miles—because it only consists of checks and easy swaps, such as cabin filters and key-fob batteries. Same goes for the upcoming scheduled 36,000-mile one, but the 24,000-mile service ($611) included a brake-fluid flush, so it required an in-patient visit. We imagine this is a concern for those who are thinking about purchasing a Lucid in, say, Kansas City (either of them), because their nearest Lucid service shop is more than one Iowa away in Saint Paul, Minnesota.
In the car's defense, it's never put us in a spot that necessitated the convenience of a neighborhood dealer. But the cold winter months do seem to bring out the Air's worst behavior. We've had the automatically revealing door handles frozen by ice, the frunk's passenger's-side latch resist fully releasing (that's after it was realigned during its first auto-doc visit), and, most recent, an electronic component went bad that rendered both the physical and smartphone keys useless. When this happened, we were able to unlock the car remotely and use a PIN to turn it on and drive it. Lucid collected the car and trailered it back to the service center.
This visit was mostly for the warranty work concerning the inoperable key, but we also had Lucid replace a cracked windshield. Local glass shops didn't have the tools needed to recalibrate the forward-looking camera, so at least in our area, a cracked Lucid windshield means using the OEM to replace it, engendering a $2000 bill.
Keeping the Air's windshield clean is a bit of a chore. Because the glass is so raked for aerodynamic efficiency, it's difficult to clean it thoroughly, particularly when you're trying to reach into the corners over the steering wheel. So, we hopped on Amazon and bought the Invisible Glass Reach & Clean Tool. It's basically a small mop with a triangular or ovoid-shaped head that gets a microfiber towel into those hard-to-reach corners. For $20, it's money well spent if dirty glass is an irritation.
While that sounds like a lot of bad, we still love the car, quirks and all. The Dolby Atmos stereo is a highlight, even if the native interface for the Tidal app isn't the easiest thing to navigate via the touchscreen. And it still drives beautifully: quick, quiet, stealthy. This is a great sedan with plenty of room for a family.
We did notice a dip in range over the winter, dropping our average slightly from 97 to 93 MPGe. In terms of percentages, that's 4 percent, which is like a 40-mpg car dipping to 38 mpg. It's easily explainable. Not only is the car putting more energy into the cabin to heat it, our car has also been rolling on less-efficient winter tires.
In addition to drivers wishing the cabin would heat more quickly, one of the more interesting things we learned during our snowy commutes this winter is that because the rear-drive Air has regenerative braking only on its drive axle, the back end will step out when regen initially activates on slippery terrain. It's kind of like a go-kart that only has brakes on its rear axle, only this one weighs 4562 pounds. Stability control kicks in, so it's not like it's creating a dangerous situation (we hammed it up for photos).
This only applies to really slippery situations, though. Lucid says the rear-drive regen target is 0.2 g, while an all-wheel-drive Air targets 0.3 g. For comparison, your in-laws might gasp at a 0.4-g stop, and they'd likely never ride with you again if you got into the ABS. Besides, if the moment of instability bothers you, Lucid allows you to fully deactivate all regenerative braking in the drive-mode settings. Most EVs only dial down the liftoff regen and still employ some recuperation when the brake pedal is activated, performing a blended stop using both regen and friction brakes. But in the Lucid, turning off regen means zero regen, including during a brake-pedal application.
Check back to see what other quirks we uncover in our final 10,000 miles with this startup automaker's very impressive first effort.
Months in Fleet:16 months Current Mileage: 31,849 miles
Average Fuel Economy: 93 MPGe
Battery Capacity: 88 kWh Observed Driving Range (C/D EST): 280 miles
Service: $982 Normal Wear: $0 Repair: $0
Damage and Destruction: $2693
20,000-Mile Update
When we last left the Lucid, it had just returned from an extended stay at the car spa, where it got a computer swapped out because we spilled some Pepsi. And since then, life has continued with a few more complications and problems from our 2024 Air Pure.
The Air's duty cycle has not been limited to local runabout, as is the case with many other EVs in our long-term fleet. The Air has blown as far as Virginia International Raceway (VIR) for our annual Lightning Lap event, as well as to Chicago multiple times, to Toronto, and all over the mitten state. Many on staff are still a little gun-shy about taking an EV on a long trip, but when skeptics do, they're always surprised at how little inconvenience it entails. That's not to say we don't experience the occasional complication from a charging infrastructure that hasn't quite reached critical mass. Slow charging or an inoperable station are still the top complaints. Things are getting better, at least near our Midwest home base, and since last year, we've had the option to use Tesla's more extensive network, so long as we have the CCS-to-NACS adapter.
We've found that the best plan of attack when road-tripping is to stop every three hours or so. This gives us a buffer should we need to investigate a charging plan B. And even if the rear-drive Air Pure can go 300 miles between recharges on the highway, it's worth considering that dipping into the last 10 or 15 percent of that range extends the charging time (this is true of all EVs).
Road warrior Jacob Kurowicki planned to make the return to Ann Arbor from Virginia using a one-stop strategy—not because stopping and charging once for close to an hour would have been quicker than multiple shorter stops, but more just for the challenge of it. However, on the day of his would-be attempt, following a busy week at VIR, he wasn't as diligent about preconditioning the car or the cabin. Near-freezing morning air made the first 50 miles less efficient than they could have been because so much energy went to warming the cabin. Still, a two-stop, 600-mile day isn't bad.
Lucid made a house call for the Air's second service ($611), which included all aspects of the 12,000-mile visit plus a brake-fluid flush and checks of the air-conditioning and battery systems. The service tech also performed a few open recalls. One thing the tech wasn't able to do on-site was address a suspension clunk that had all the audible and situational indicators pointing to a bad anti-roll-bar end-link bushing. He claimed the noise was in the damper, and the Air was picked up and trailered to a Lucid service center a few days later. When our Air was returned exactly a week later, the suspension clunk was better—softer and less frequent—but it wasn't completely gone. This is something we plan to have remedied in the future.
Once winter came, though, we were reminded of the Air's biggest shortcomings. When left in auto mode, the HVAC doesn't heat the cabin very quickly. Set it to manual, however, and within a few minutes you're transported from below freezing to a balmy 77 degrees. When the Air is parked outside, its active shutters often freeze in place. The motors that move the aerodynamic-aiding louvers twist repeatedly, jumping cogs, clicking away like a metronome. And that clicking goes away only if you park the car in a heated garage long enough to thaw.
The cold also seemed to exaggerate a sometimes-sticky frunk latch. We've had the hood realigned once, but the passenger's-side latch still gets hung up from time to time. The cold seems to make it worse. If a power frunk were an option on a Pure, we'd call it a must-have, but to get that, you have to step up to the Touring model and then select a $3000 package.
We've also noticed that the finish of the chrome-looking plastic trim on the exterior has begun to flake off. It is all on the front end of the car, which leads us to believe it is as much a comment on our driving style—too close to slower traffic that's in the way, maybe. It doesn't help that this winter has been one of Michigan's worst in years and that crews have spread what seems like an ocean's worth of salt. But none of the other long-term cars suffer from a similar patina. While it's too late for protection film for our car, it's something we've recommended to others buying an Air.
We would normally not forgive these criticisms so quickly, but the Lucid is such a nice thing to drive and live with that we put up with the quirks and adjust a bit to make it work in our daily lives. The truth is in our car board. The Air is often coveted for weekend slots and signed out early in the weekly pecking order, because it handles well and is luxurious, quick, and big enough for a family. Plus, it has an amazing Dolby Atmos stereo, which is technology worth seeking out if you are an audiophile. If you're not, Rush's "Tom Sawyer" will make you a believer.
Months in Fleet: 14 months Current Mileage: 24,303 miles
Average Fuel Economy: 97 MPGe
Battery Capacity: 88 kWh Observed Driving Range: 300 miles
Service: $982 Normal Wear: $0 Repair: $0
Damage and Destruction: $693
10,000-Mile Update
If there were a reality show called When Costco Trips Go Wrong, our Lucid Air Pure could be the focus of an episode. Through no fault of its own, mind you—well, depending on whom you ask.
The drama started back in October. An editor took the Air for a lunchtime Costco run. This is a common occurrence. First of all, Costco is close by, and there isn't a better dollar-to-calorie deal (save maybe the Little Caesars Hot-n-Ready meal) than the $1.50 Costco Glizzy. Second, the Air has a huge trunk and an ample frunk to hold all the large items one might buy at the big-box store.
The trunk isn't just long and wide; it's also deep. There is a shelf that divides the vertical space, but two deep and largely blind openings remain. (The travel charging cord lives in the middle section covered by the shelf.) Stashing something there, like an 18-rack of free-range quail eggs, is pretty normal. So it's easy to understand how the 20-ounce Pepsi that came with the hot dog was temporarily placed there. But by the time the editor realized they forgot to retrieve the soda from the trunk's side pocket, the cup was empty, and the well was wet. They sopped up what they could with some newly purchased microfiber towels ($20 for 36, another screaming deal). It wasn't the first time some liquid was spilled in a long-termer and probably won't be the last.
Except that just beneath that side of the trunk well is, it turns out, a junction box that controls all kinds of things. Soon the stereo started cutting out. Then the trunk wouldn't open, and the car wouldn't unlock itself. Of course, once a service tech arrived, the trunk opened and the car would start working (so typical, right?). But once the spill came to light, we learned that there was a fuse panel of sorts in that area. Lucid took the car to its service center and replaced the now-tacky-to-the-touch low-voltage junction box, a $693 whoopsie that caused the offender to wonder, "Why isn't that waterproof?"
That's been the only dark spot so far in the Air's stay with us. Well, there is a grayish haze clouding its connectivity. In brutally cold January, the key fob stopped working. Fortunately, we had the mobile app setup that allows you to use a smartphone as a key. At first, you think how nice it is to carry one fewer object in your day-to-day, but then you realize that there's a company out there tracking your every move (Lucid isn't the only one). Anyway, keys don't work, then they work, then they might work. And when we'd park, the grille shutters would attempt to close repeatedly, clicking like a countdown timer ready to blow. They likely were stuck due to a subfreezing carwash.
Similarly, the Bluetooth connection sometimes goes in and out. It's frustrating but hard to pin completely on the Air. After all, we have a few dozen drivers who cycle through, and the reliability of the connection seems to increase when unused phones are deleted.
The complaints about the key not working have stopped after the first scheduled service (due every year or 12,000 miles), because part of the service includes changing the batteries in the key fobs. Other things included: new wiper blades, a tire rotation, a new cabin air filter, and the ubiquitous multipoint inspection. Another oddity on the service chit is new batteries for the lights in the sun-visor mirrors. Why aren't they hardwired? If you recall, the Air launched with a giant glass roof, so hardwiring the vanity light would have created an unsightly line. With tax, the service cost $371.
After Dolby came out and gave us an Atmos demonstration, we immediately signed up for a Tidal account (one of the few native apps that stream Atmos files). We're paying $14 a month. If you have a car with Atmos capability, once you hear the fidelity, you'll deem it necessary. Testing director Dave VanderWerp is really into it. "Dolby Atmos is so mesmerizing that I sit in my driveway for a half-hour listening to music after getting home," he says. "It adds so much depth and life to otherwise flat streaming files. Every car needs this ASAP."
And of course, we still love the 10Best-winning Air for how well it handles and drives. At $81,350 out the door for the rear-drive Pure, this is one of the best deals in a luxury car. Its range took a bit of a hit (our running average observed fuel economy dropped from 110 MPGe to 92) on winter tires in the cold weather, but not so much as to spike anxiety. For all of the Air's little glitches, it has never stranded anyone.
Months in Fleet: 10 months Current Mileage: 15,870 miles
Average Fuel Economy: 92 MPGe
Battery Capacity: 88 kWh Observed Driving Range: 280 miles
Service: $371 Normal Wear: $0 Repair: $0
Damage and Destruction: $693
Introduction
It isn't often that Car and Driver gets this excited about a base model, but the 430-hp Lucid Air Pure is one that deserves as much praise as the 1234-hp Air Sapphire. Not so much for its 4.3-second dash to 60 mph or its 419-mile EPA range—both solid performances—but for the exceptional value and truly luxurious experience behind the wheel. Winning a 10Best award for 2024 all but guaranteed we'd request a long-termer for us to live with and test for 40,000 miles.
The well-appointed cabin is quiet and coddling in this $81,350 spec, a price we could prune by omitting the Stealth Appearance package (black exterior trim, essentially, for $1750) and striking Zenith Red Metallic paint ($800), though everyone agrees that the curb appeal is tough to beat. On top of the $71,400 base price, we also added the DreamDrive Premium package ($2000), more for the surround-view camera system than the ADAS tech, and the Comfort & Convenience package ($2500 for soft-close doors, power sunshades, four-zone climate control, heated rear seats, and a heated steering wheel). Since we ordered our car, Lucid has made the DreamDrive Premium setup standard on the Pure, leaving the more expensive DreamDrive Pro system as the only ADAS option. But seeing as we enjoy driving the Air so much, we don't feel like we missed out on the Pro's more advanced hands-free highway assists.
We did, however splurge on the $2900 stereo upgrade. The Surreal Sound Pro option has 21 speakers (up from the standard nine) and features the first automotive integration of Dolby Atmos. Everything from movie theaters to living-room soundbars uses this technology, and for those who are of a certain age, no, it isn't the latest in noise reduction. Atmos is a digital audio format, which means you have to have the right source and hardware to take advantage of the immersive sound experience. After years of our ears being accustomed to compressed audio, old songs sound brand new in Atmos. Not all your favorite artists have Atmos formatting, but more are being added all the time. Tidal is the only Atmos-enabled app on our Lucid's infotainment for now. It runs $14 per month.
The initial response from our editors has been overwhelmingly positive, and it seems as though editor-in-chief Tony Quiroga found his new commuter of choice. The 430-hp powertrain isn't a headline grabber, but it's got more than enough passing power to shock passengers into attention. A few drivers dug deep into the nitpick trough to complain about the seatbelt chime that rings as soon as you get in the car (a side effect of no true start button). But there's not been a single comment on the faux leather, which suggests that it's pretty convincing.
We haven't had too many problems with the car. It's mainly just been us getting used to the 21st-century features, such as using a smartphone as a key. This occasionally creates some anxiety should, say, your daughter decide she needs to watch every episode of Sesame Street. Smartphones need power to work, after all, so it's just one more thing to be conscious of. The nearest Lucid service center is in south-central Michigan, about 90 minutes west of our Ann Arbor base. When we do get around to getting the Air there for some service—or more likely a repair because we did something silly—we will request they adjust the frunk release. It is a little sticky and often requires a few tries to get the hood fully ajar. Upgrading to the roughly $10,000 pricier Air Touring (now the least expensive way to get dual motors and all-wheel drive) nets an optional power frunk.
We've had the Air for a few months, and a common theme when discussing it is how it surprises editors when they get in it for a second or third time. Normally, there is a familiarity that breeds complacency, but we are still amazed at how well it executes the luxury-car mission: quiet, smooth, comfortable.
Our Air hasn't traveled anywhere notable just yet, but its soon-to-come access to the Tesla Supercharger network should make for convenient road tripping. We did put it on one Tesla DC cord already, but it could draw only 48 kilowatts because its 900-volt architecture doesn't play nice with Tesla's 400. It's always something with EV infrastructure, isn't it?
Months in Fleet: 4 months Current Mileage: 4885 miles
Average Fuel Economy: 110 MPGe
Battery Capacity: 88.0 kWh Observed Driving Range (C/D est): 290 miles
Service: $0 Normal Wear: $0 Repair: $0
Damage and Destruction: $0
K.C. Colwell, the executive editor at Car and Driver, is a seasoned professional with a deep-rooted passion for new cars and technology. His journey into the world of automotive journalism began at an early age when his grandmother gifted him a subscription to Car and Driver for his 10th birthday. This gift sparked a lifelong love for the industry, and he read every issue between then and his first day of employment. He started his Car and Driver career as a technical assistant in the fall of 2004. In 2007, he was promoted to assistant technical editor. In addition to testing, evaluating, and writing about cars, technology, and tires, K.C. also set the production-car lap record at Virginia International Raceway for C/D's annual Lightning Lap track test and was just the sixth person to drive the Hendrick Motorsport Garage 56 Camaro. In 2017, he took over as testing director until 2022, when was promoted to executive editor and has led the brand to be one of the top automotive magazines in the country. When he’s not thinking about cars, he likes playing hockey in the winter and golf in the summer and doing his best to pass his good car sense and love of '90s German sedans to his daughter. He might be the only Car and Driver editor to own a Bobcat: the skidsteer, not the feline. Though, if you have a bobcat guy, reach out. K.C. resides in Chelsea, Michigan, with his family.