I've been riding motorcycles for a long time now, and somewhere along the way I worked out what actually keeps me doing it. It's not the horsepower. It's not lap times or 0 to 100 numbers. It's the mates. It's rolling up to a coffee stop with a group of blokes and bikes that all sound completely different, and somehow that's the whole point.
Which is probably why I've always had a soft spot for singles. There's something about that thump, that unmistakable single cylinder pulse, that just fits the kind of riding I actually do. It's not about being the fastest bike in the group. It's about having a bit of character while you're out there with your mates, taking the long way home, stopping more than you probably need to.
So when BSA brought the Gold Star back, and then followed it up with the Birmingham Blue colourway, I found myself paying more attention than usual. Not because I need another bike. Because I think a 650 single might genuinely be somewhere in my future, and this one's got me thinking about it seriously.
A Brand That Actually Earned Its Second Chance
Every time we post about the new BSA range, someone drops the same comment. This isn't a real BSA. And fair call, honestly. Classic Legends, part of the Mahindra Group, bought the rights to the name back in 2016 after the original company had been dead for over 40 years. There's no shared factory, no shared engineering, nothing linking this bike to the one that rolled out of Small Heath, Birmingham decades ago, apart from the badge and the looks.
But here's the bit people conveniently leave out. The original BSA didn't get killed off by some corporate villain stealing the name. It collapsed because by the 1970s, while Honda and Kawasaki were busy reinventing motorcycling, BSA turned up to the fight on the equivalent of a horse and cart. They stopped innovating, and it cost them everything.
So maybe the real question isn't who owns the paperwork on that badge. It's whether this bike is actually good. And having spent proper time on it now, freeways, twisties, a run through the Royal National Park, I think it genuinely is.
The Twin Clocks Got Me First
I'll be honest, it was the details that pulled me in before the riding even started. Those twin clocks, individual analogue speedo and tacho with an LCD readout tucked in between, look like they've been lifted straight off the original. The chrome fender, the pinstriped tank, that big red BSA badge on the Birmingham Blue model, it's all doing exactly what a proper heritage tribute should do.
And that colour matters more than it probably should. Birmingham Blue is a direct nod back to where BSA actually started, before any of the collapses, before Mahindra, before any of it. It's a company that isn't pretending the old history belongs to them outright, but they're clearly respectful of it, and leaning into it rather than ignoring it. Australia was the first market in the world to get this colourway, which is a nice little detail for us.
It Sounds The Way A Single Should
There's a reason I keep coming back to singles, and it's the sound. A 652cc liquid cooled engine with twin spark plugs and DOHC isn't exactly what you'd picture when someone says heritage single cylinder motorcycle, but somehow BSA have made it work without losing that thump. It could be a touch louder, that's almost certainly down to emissions regulations rather than a design choice, but the character is genuinely there.
It's not the most powerful bike on the road. 45 horsepower and 55 Newton metres of torque isn't going to worry anyone on a modern twin. But that was never really the point for me. I've never chosen a bike because it was the fastest thing in the group. I've chosen bikes because I enjoy riding them, and because they sound like they mean it when you roll the throttle on.
How It Actually Compares
I put this bike up against my own Royal Enfield Continental GT, and more broadly against the segment leader, the Interceptor 650, because that's genuinely the fairer fight rather than comparing it to my little Meteor 350. On paper, the numbers are closer than you'd expect. But a single and a twin at this capacity deliver that power completely differently, and the Gold Star's got a personality the smoother revving twins in this segment simply don't offer.
Is it going to dethrone the Interceptor as the king of this market? Time will tell, and Royal Enfield have earned that position over a long time. But I don't think the Gold Star needs to win that fight outright to be worth taking seriously. It's already a legitimate seat at the table, and for someone like me who's chasing character over outright performance, that's exactly the kind of bike that ends up in the garage.
Where This Leaves Me
I took this bike down to the Bulli Antique Motorcycle Weekend not long after picking it up, surrounded by genuine 40, 50, 60 year old machines, some of them actual original BSAs. Standing there with all that real history around me, on a bike that's only a few years into its second chance, it was hard not to think about where this platform goes from here. This feels like the first chapter of something, not the finished product, and I think it's only going to get better.
For now though, I could happily live with this bike. And if I'm being honest with myself, a 650 single, whether it ends up being this one or whatever BSA or someone else builds next, feels like exactly the kind of bike that fits where I'm at with riding these days. Less about the numbers, more about the mates, the mornings, and something under me that's got a bit of soul.