GOODBYE SV650

Unassuming, affordable, but also brilliant – for more than 25 years. Suzuki’s SV650 has nurtured novices and entertained veterans alike. But is this epic era coming to an end? SV650 expert – and owner – Martin Fitz-Gibbons investigates…

Words Martin Fitz-Gibbons Pictures Adam Shorrock

Snappy, fun, still looking good in middle age. The SV shares at least some of its virtues with writer Martin

THE FACTS

Price £7399
Engine 645cc DOHC 90° V-twin, 4v per cyl, l/c
Transmission Six-speed chain
Power 72bhp @ 8500rpm
Torque 47lb·ft @ 6800rpm
Fuel capacity 14.5 litres
Seat height 785mm
Wheelbase 1445mm
Weight 200kg (kerb, claimed)
Rider aids ABS

SHARKS ARE NATURE’S most astonishing survivors. They’ve existed on planet Earth for between 350 and 450 million years, depending on how you count it. In that time they’ve seen dinosaurs come and go, survived five global mass extinction events, and hung around longer than spiders, cockroaches and even trees. That kind of staying power only happens when something is pretty special – and when it’s also adaptable, versatile and resilient. Suzuki’s SV650 is a two-wheeled shark. Not in the conventional sense, perhaps. The friendly middleweight has hardly carved out a fearsome reputation as an apex predator, nor inspired a litany of camp Hollywood horror flicks. But the SV has shown astounding staying power. Fireblades, GSs and Speed Triples? The names have been around longer, but the bikes themselves have mutated into unrecognisably different creatures – the evolutionary equivalent of Trigger’s broom. But like sharks the SV650 has evolved far more gently and slowly, its family resemblance easily traced across the years.

Fossil records suggest the SV650 dates back to prehistoric times, or the 20th century as we know it today. When it was launched in 1999 it brought together a lightweight trellis frame, unadjustable suspension and a 70bhp, 645cc V-twin. More than a quarter of a century later, that same recipe remains instantly recognisable on the latest version. There have been a few environmental adaptations along the way – aluminium tubing has been swapped to steel, carbs have given way to fuel injectors, and analogue dials replaced by a digital dash. But the slim, frisky roadster flashing eagerly along Lincolnshire back lanes this morning is unmistakably still an SV650.

Cameras have changed slightly since the SV first broke cover

The SV’s enduring appeal begins with its compact proportions. Now, as then, the SV650 welcomes riders of all sizes and experience levels. That’s evident in its approachable seat height (just 785mm) and manageable mass (only 200kg fully fuelled). To my mid-40s dad-bod the SV seems surprisingly small – the fuel tank sits low and lean between my knees, grips are only a short reach away, and footpegs are set higher than expected. When I first climbed on an SV650 more than 20 years ago, it felt dauntingly huge after my titchy, twitchy two-stroke 125. The SV’s proportions haven’t changed much; the same, sadly, can’t be said for mine…

One element that’s remained constant is the SV’s effortless, eager agility. It flicks into corners with minimal muscle, darting deftly around its slender 160-section rear tyre and settling confidently at lairy lean angles. You can sense the bike’s mid-corner balance is a tad rear-biased, in part because of its low seat, while suspension is set slightly soft and springy. The right-way-up forks still use basic damper-rod internals, while the only adjustment at either end is a stepped preload collar on the shock. There’s no hiding that it’s all built to a price using yesterday’s tech – but it also remains deceptively capable, with better roadholding and ride quality than the last Yamaha MT-07 or Kawasaki Z650 I rode.

Stood the test of time like no other – it’s from a different millennium

If you’re after forensic front-end feel and debonair damping, perhaps don’t come looking for it in a seven-grand street bike. But grab it by its handlebar and the SV delights in being chucked about. It romps gleefully along these countryside lanes, dancing through a series of right angled turns and floating over a railway bridge with playful panache. Its Dunlop Roadsmart 3 tyres bite reassuringly into the sun-baked asphalt, the road ahead framed by luscious, deep-green hedgerows bulging with summer life. Flecks of white cow parsley blur past in my peripheral vision exaggerating the modest speeds. Overhead, a red kite glides effortlessly on invisible currents through the crisp cyan sky. What a day for it.

While the SV650 doesn’t propel itself along with quite that level of serene majesty, its motor remains an all-time gem. Fundamentals have barely changed from the ’99 original: same bore and stroke; identical internal gear ratios; and within a couple of horsepower and pound-feet of peak performance. Hard to think of another engine that’s managed to last as many years so well preserved.

“‘You’ll struggle to find a rider with a bad word to say about the SV, which speaks volumes’”

Martin goes with the flow as SV shows off its ‘playful panache’

Despite its age, the V-twin refuses to feel dated or old-fashioned. It chugs softly from just off tick over, pulls smoothly and briskly through the bottom end, discovers a touch more spirit around 6500rpm, then zaps off happily to its 10,500rpm limiter. The delivery is broad, linear and undemanding, but deeply engaging. Gearshifts are slick in both directions and ratios are nicely spaced, while the motor’s even-handed delivery means that at all times you can be in any one of about three gears. The flexibility is fabulous, accommodating all moods, experience levels and riding styles. Chunter along politely one second, then thrash its brains out the next – it gladly does both, switching speeds instantly. The SV650 may not have the same naughty rortiness of Yamaha’s CP2 twin, but it runs it close. Impressive going for an engine that’s older than many of the riders it’s aimed at.

Old-fashioned by today’s standards, but they add to SV’s simplistic charm

The appeal of the Suzuki’s engine runs deeper though. There’s something special about riding an authentic 90° V, rather than a parallel twin with a wonky crankshaft like most modern middleweights. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is – my rational side knows the firing intervals are the same, so they should sound identical and vibrate similarly. But opening the SV’s throttle delivers a sense of substance, refinement and engineering gravitas that I rarely get from a parallel twin’s slightly hollow, whispy thrum. Even if it’s all in my head, it’s still real to me.

While it wins on character and charm, the SV650’s powertrain does lack many of its rivals’ modern conveniences. On the physical side it doesn’t have a slipper/gripper clutch, meaning the lever pull isn’t as light as the latest set-ups. And on the electronics side there’s, well, almost nothing. No riding modes, no traction control, no cruise or quickshifter or 19-axis wheelie autopilot. Switchgear is sparse and clear as a result: instead of baffling buttons and four-way joysticks there’s just indicators, a horn and a kill switch. When I want to reset the trip, it feels kinda retro to take a hand off the controls and reach forward to press a button on the clocks. How quickly things have changed.

Peg scraping is common – the SV’s handling is deceptively good

Old-fashioned simplicity is in abundance when I pull over to poke round it. Inside the SV’s traditional round headlight are traditional round halogen bulbs, not LEDs. There’s no immobiliser in the skinny ignition key. And while its LCD dash would have looked fantastically futuristic 20 years ago, next to today’s connective colour TFT touchscreens it’s as cutting-edge as a Casio calculator watch. Brakes were uprated a few years ago from the original’s sliding two-pots to four-piston Tokicos, but remain axially mounted rather than radial.

It’s easy for old-school riders to dismiss all this with: “Yeah, but do you really need any more?” Perhaps not, but ‘need’ and ‘want’ are two different things. Showroom battles are won with hearts and eyeballs, and there’s no getting round the fact that in 2025 the SV650 looks old-fashioned – even if it still rides perfectly pleasantly.

No thumb yoga, no flickering rider aids – just rider, SV, and road. So pleasingly simple

Which brings us to the crossroads the SV650 finds itself at today. Tellingly, it doesn’t meet the current Euro5+ emissions standard, so it’s only on sale thanks to a short-term loophole called ‘derogation’. Suzuki can still sell existing stock in limited numbers, but the clock is ticking very loudly indeed. So, what’s next for the venerable V-twin?

Despite persistent pestering and polite probing, Suzuki’s lips are sealed shut regarding the SV’s future. But their options are as clear as they are limited. An all-new model with a comprehensive overhaul makes little sense – Suzuki already has the GSX-8S, a bike that’s just 131cc, 10bhp and £900 more than the SV. Alternatively, a mild update to keep the SV650 going into its 27th year could potentially happen, but this kind of romantic last-minute reprieve is far from certain.

Emissions regs means its days are numbered – so get one while you can. You won’t regret it

Which leaves the very real possibility that, in Europe at least, the SV650 may be facing extinction. And if these are its final days, then it’s time we appreciated the incredible run it’s had – from the curvy original, through the fuel-injected second-gen model, to the divisive ‘Gladius’ rebrand, to its stripped-back 2016 return. The SV was a hit right from the start, becoming one of the bestselling bikes in Europe, inspiring an entire Minitwins race class, and forcing rivals to rethink how they built middleweights. Out went a class built around old detuned supersport engines, and in came a fresh generation of punchy, nimble twins.

Hundreds of thousands of owners along the way – myself included – owe an enormous thanks to the SV650 for helping us find our feet, whether on road, track, or both. Affordable, reliable, forgiving, accommodating and endlessly entertaining, its gentle genius transcends generations and genders like few modern bikes. You’ll struggle to find a rider with a bad word to say about the SV, which speaks volumes. If there isn’t a 2026 model waiting in the wings, and if today’s spirited countryside dash really does mark the final chapter of the SV650’s marathon story, then its place as a future classic is in no doubt.

SV holds a special place in Martin’s biking story – as it does for many riders

THE PARTS THAT MAKE IT A JOY

ACCESSIBILITY

Standard seat height is 785mm, or less than 31in, making it easy for shorter riders to feel confident and in control. Kerb weight is just 200kg.

ENGINE

Long-running 645cc V-twin still delivers a handy blend of eager bottom end, perky midrange and satisfying, free-revving top-end. Claimed 72bhp is just two more than in 1999, but still enough to boogie.

SIMPLICITY

Technophobes rejoice – the phrase “less to go wrong” could have been made for this bike. The SV650 has no ride-by-wire throttle, no riding modes, no traction control, no IMU, no phone connectivity…

RELIABILITY

The last major update was in 2016, and the engine’s been going since the last century. Serious problems in all that time? Nothing. Proven, refined and trusted, the SV is a bike you can rely on to start first time every time.

AFFORDABILITY

In 1999 an SV650 cost £3999. Accounting for inflation that’s about £7600 today, meaning an SV650 is actually cheaper now (£7399 otr) in real terms. But that’s just the official RRP – you can find new bikes advertised for as little as £5995.

FANCY A USED SV650?

The SV650 family tree breaks down into four generations: the curvy carbed original (19992002); the pointy fuel-injected model (2003-2008); the SFV650 Gladius (2009-2015); and the latest version (2016on). Here’s what to look for and what to pay:

1 Finish

Not great, particularly on earlier models. Fork lowers corrode, engine case paint is vulnerable (especially the water pump cover), and brake calipers can seize if not cleaned regularly.

2 Modifications

Affordable, popular with younger riders and occasionally dropped, the SV650 is a magnet for bolt-on bits that, ahem, aren’t to all tastes.

“I’m sure you do love your furry purple screen… but do you still have the original, perchance?”

3 Exhaust

Exhaust systems on 19992008 models are one-piece, so aftermarket silencers require cutting into the pipework. If there is a noisy pipe fitted, ask whether the fuelling has been adjusted, and consider whether it’s noisy enough to annoy an MOT tester.

4 Suspension

Cheap and cheerful at the best of times – and almost certainly due a service by now. Forks benefit from heavier-weight oil and slightly firmer springs. Shocks benefit from being replaced altogether.

5 Ex-racers

The SV650 inspired the Minitwins race class, so check for ex-track bike giveaways like lockwire holes drilled into the sump plug or oil filler cap. Mint bodywork on tired bikes is a clue, as is shelves of trophies adorning garage walls and a race transporter on the drive.

What to pay

£900 – the cheapest SV650 we found on eBay was a carbed original SV650S with 33,000 miles on the clock
£2500 – gets you a 20,000-mile Gladius, or a later SV650S (identified by its black frame)
£4500 – buys a wealth of 2020-ish models with very low miles from a dealer

Good. Bye?