Although Cadillac has glommed onto Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll" as the theme music for is what is a remarkably resurgent lineup of vehicles, I'd like to recommend that the people at its ad agency consider something else specifically for the CTS-V: Jimi Hendrix rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner" from Woodstock.  After all, we are talking about blisteringly bold American muscle here, a car that can certainly hold its own Over There.  (Consider the other American-made vehicles that that can be said about.  The Corvette.  Dodge Viper.  Ford GT.  Which means that GM accounts for 50%.  Who says the General is old and tired?)

What's notable about the CTS-V is that it is a sedan capable of comfortably containing four full-size people (passenger volume: 111 ft³).  If you have teenaged kids—especially boys—they'll want to spend time in the vehicle (behind the wheel—yeah, right) and won't be embarrassed by what Dad has as his wheels.  If it is a daily driver, then Dad is going to have a substantial muscle in his left leg, as the clutch attached to the six-speed Tremec T56 is a serious mechanism, not the cushy sort of thing often found on manual transmission cars that aren't those built for tuners.

And while in this area of the vehicle, I have to make my one substantial criticism: As this is a manual transmission vehicle, it is a good idea to engage the parking brake when, well, parking, and to leave it in gear to minimize the possibility of rolling.  But because the CTS began life as an automatic transmission vehicle (or so I speculate), the parking brake is not located at the center console where it can be pulled up with comparative ease, but is a foot brake.  Which means that in order to put on the parking brake it is necessary to take your foot off the clutch, which means that the car must be in neutral.  I found it to be cumbersome but probably something that would be expensive to change.

The CTS-V features—and this is the key feature, the thing that makes this stand out from practically everything else rolling out of Detroit—a 5.7-liter V8 LS6 engine that pumps out 400 hp and 395 lb-ft of torque.  Arguably, the "V" stands for the throaty "Vroom" that is emitted from the enlarged dual exhaust system (while the vehicle is otherwise quiet, befitting a vehicle of its price point-- >$50K—the engineers realized that when you're in a car that's meant to propel the driver, then the driver sure as hell ought to know when he or she has her foot in it).

The interior of the vehicle driven is mainly monocolor: black in varying shades and textures (the upper trim and headliner are gray, but the visible features are all black).  The interior plastic trim has edges that echo the exterior sheet metal, so it is not one of those vehicles wherein the styling studios seem to have been separated by a continent or two.  There are bits of bright brushed metal—door pulls, door handles, top of shift knob—that accentuate the Goth and help emphasize that this is a technical vehicle.  The glove box is pretty much just that: a place where you might be able to store a pair of driving gloves.  The leather seats have baseball glove stitching and suede-like insets where your body meets the seat.

On the exterior, beyond the special badging, the cue that really sets the CTS-V apart from its less-robust brethren is the serous-looking mesh two-piece grille, one section where it would ordinarily be located and the other in the bumper.  The engine needs plenty of air, and anything less substantive in appearance would be, well, inadequate.  The Venetian-blind type slats on the ordinary CTS just doesn't make it.

There is the requisite number of electronic gadgets in the vehicle, from navigation to XM radio to OnStar.  Speaking of the audio, crank up the Bose and get the exhaust to sing, and you're hearing music the likes of which few vehicles straight out of the showroom can match.  This is a serious car for drivers who are looking for some serious fun.