(first posted 8/23/2014) Everybody loves the underdog, so how can we not love this Concord? Or everything else that AMC kept coming up with in its increasingly desperate attempts to forestall its inevitable demise as America’s last (major) independent car maker? Every couple of years, a new strategy appeared to position its cars in whichever little niche that seemed to offer a glimmer of hope: compact economy cars in the mid-fifties, the dorky-sporty fastback Marlin, the pony car Javelin, the two-seater “sports car” AMX, the full-sized Ambassador, the #%$@&% Gremlin (adjectives fail me), the wide-body compact Pacer, the ultra-swoopy Matador coupe, the all-wheel drive Eagle.
Desperation is the mother of improvisation, and AMC did plenty of that. This Concord is one of AMC’s last gasps before it rolled over and played dead. And exactly what niche was it trying to fill?
AMC’s new 1970 Hornet (CC here) was a mighty clean machine for those coke-bottled times; one of Dick Teague’s best in his highly varied but never dull career as head of AMC styling. I’ve been vigilantly looking for a Hornet, and regret not stopping in a little town where I saw a nice early example parked. It was the Rambler American’s successor, and aimed straight at the compact car class dominated by the Nova, Valiant and Dart; tough company. Especially so, since it was a segment vulnerable to two big factors: the swing in oil prices, and the invasion of the Japanese sub-compacts. The Hornet’s only year to crack the 100k barrier was in 1974, in the midst of Energy Crisis I.
The Hornet’s front two-thirds, the Gremlin, was left to fight off the sub-compacts, but its all-body-parts-accounted-for donor languished in the late seventies, as the old “compact” class started to fragment. What to do? Where is the new niche? AMC certainly couldn’t afford to develop a genuine new car, and the “mid-size” Matador was already as good as dead.
AMC decided that the opportunity lay somewhere between Mercedes and Toyota, as the booming success of those two brands were determined to be the result of American’s new-found love with quality and luxury, or some reasonable facsimile of them. The Hornet would get a face-lifted front, and a healthy dose of quality, luxury and class, but without throwing value to the winds along with the Hornet’s foreshortened front end. And a new name, of course: Concord.
And it actually kind of worked. The real secret sauce was that by 1978, the Hornet/Concord had been in constant production at Kenosha for almost a decade, so the bugs and panel gaps had all been pretty much worked out. Slather on a hefty dose of sound-deadening, thick new rugs (both on the floor and on the roof), and a higher grade of interior materials. The Ford Granada had shown the way with this formula. At least AMC avoided any fake classic grilles; Dick Teague wouldn’t have allowed that; thank you.
Sales jumped: in its first year (1978), they hit a decent 117k. That would remain the high water mark, but the Concord had two more decent years, in ’79 and ’80. Then the formula petered out, like so many of AMC’s perpetual stop-gap measures. Energy Crisis II might have been part of it, but the market was just shifting away. 1983 was the Concord’s last year, as it handed off the baton to the Renault R11 based Alliance. But that’s another story.
Concords were powered mostly by the venerable AMC six, the 258 CID (4.2 L) version only after 1980. It actually made the Concord feel fairly zippy at lower speeds, with its very healthy torque curve. The 304 was available the first two years only. And the unloved Audi-castoff 2.0 L four was available for hard core economy freaks in ’78 and ’79, but undoubtedly struggled more than a bit under the burden of all that padding in the vinyl half-roof. GM’s Iron Duke 2.5 L four was recruited from 1980 on, and with a long-geared four speed stick gave pretty good mileage during those high-gas price years. Although that combination didn’t really suit the Concord’s character, and I’ve never seen one. These cars are quintessential six cylinder machines, with an automatic. The fours and eights just never quite seemed right.
This particular Concord is the only one I’ve seen around town, and eluded me until a couple of days ago. Like so many well kept original older cars, it’s a multi-generational affair. The driver’s grandfather bought it new, and will inherit it after his elderly mother passes on, as she made a point of telling me. It’s certainly aged well, and the condition of that red vinyl cardinal’s hat tells me it’s been garaged.
Amazingly enough, the Concord did the trick, sort of; it didn’t keep AMC independent, but it allowed it to survive long enough until Renault stepped in; or stepped into it, as the case may be. What were they thinking? Along the lines of Fiat today, I presume; but then AMC was no Chrysler.
I wonder if I can make a fair comparison between the Hornet/Concord and the Volvo 240.
The AMC lasted a long time, 1970-1985
The 240 lasted a long time, 1975-1993
Both lasted a long time because there really wasn’t money to develop anything new.
Both cars had rabid fans who kept buying them even though there were (probably) better choices available toward the ends of their production runs.
Both cars started out with pretty good engines based on earlier units from their respective companies.
But both companies needed other engines for their cars and couldn’t do a new engine by themselves, so they reached out to other manufacturers.
Volvo joined a consortium to design and build the PRV V-6. They also purchased Diesel engines from VAG.
AMC purchased the Iron Duke from GM. They also bought VAG engines for the Gremlin and DJ, although I don’t think that engine made it into the Hornet/Concord.
Does any of this make sense or am I grasping at straws?
I get your drift, yes. Though I’ve never thought about it before, I do see some similarities as well.
The Concord only lasted through 1983; however, the Eagle made it partway into the 1988 model year. The little EA831 huffer was available in the Concord in 1978 and 1979, in the same Spirit as the 1977-78 Gremlin… where you paid more money for less engine than the standard six cylinder.
It’s too bad AMC’s own four cylinder didn’t come online earlier, as that woulda been a pretty decent choice if you were trying to skinflint a Gremlin… both from a cost and performance standpoint.
In an alternate universe, with a different chronology of business, economic and geopolitical events, including Renault hanging on to AMC and a slower global take up rate of FWD, the Hornet with AMC’s 258 six would have had a long life with a Dacia badge and marketed in Africa and the Middle East.
Totally agree.
Difficult to imagine a clumsier half vinyl roof treatment, but the Aspen/Volare nearly managed it, with their final year version. The 1976-1979 F-Body vinyl roof design being better integrated, particularly along the lower edge.
I drove them and liked them but they were a Studebaker for the 80’s.
I remember when these cars came out, I was in high school. They filled an emerging niche. We had a vacation home that was at the end of 10 miles of extremely rough and steep terrain. Regular cars at the time would be ground up and destroyed on this road. 4WD trucks were crude and unpleasant on-road (we had a land-rover and a Bronco) but were the only things that could take the off-road pounding. So it was a real eye-opener when the AWD concord and Eagle, and the ugly duckling Subaru came along. These vehicles were both great on road, and had enough clearance and AWD to go up the 10% grade dirt roads with potholes and other obstacles. There was nothing else like them back then, and they really opened up a market that never existed before. Now AWD sedans are offered by pretty much every manufacturer, but back then this was all new. It was really brilliant for AMC to exploit this new market, a somewhat natural extension given they had the Jeep pedigree to help them.