The Redline 650
The OriginalThe machine the film is about: a 649cc parallel twin in a hand-welded trellis frame, built to our spec and yours — the bike you watched assemble itself.
Scroll slowly. Over the next minute this motorcycle will take itself apart in mid-air — every piston, gear and bolt in its place — and put itself back together in front of you. That is the whole sales pitch.
Before the noise, the shape: a machine asleep under a strip light, dust hanging in the beam. Watch the headlamp — that flicker is it noticing you.
Tank, cowls and panels lift away and hold in the air, turning to glass. What's left is the truth of the machine: the frame, the fork, and the twin waiting in the middle.
Jugs rise, pistons climb, the crank sinks and the gears fan wide — the whole engine suspended in ordered space while you fly through the gap. Nothing hidden. Nothing you can't ask about.
First out, last home — each part lands with a pulse and the wheels spin up where they stand. Choose your paint below and watch the tank drink it while the rims are still singing.
A floating disc, a four-pot caliper, machined faces against matte rubber. The parts you'll trust with your body deserve a look from two inches away.
Dawn floods the bay and the machine stands ready in it — assembled in front of you, understood by you, waiting on nobody's word but its own.
Know your machine to the bolt.
Redline Works is six builders, one dyno, and a roller door that's always half-open. Every machine leaves this floor the way you just watched one come apart: as a set of parts we can name, torque, and stand behind. We buy the best crate twins made, then strip them to the last washer and build them back to our own spec — our valves, our mapping, our wiring loom, our paint. You get the dyno chart, the torque sheet, and the builder's number saved in your phone. Nothing on your machine is a mystery to us, and by the time you ride out, nothing on it will be a mystery to you.
You tell us the roads you ride; we sketch the machine on the bench, agree the spec, and chalk your name on the build board.
The crate engine comes apart to the last washer — every part measured, matched, and laid out in the order you saw it hang in the film.
One builder, one bench, your machine. Frame welded, loom run, engine blueprinted and torqued to the sheet you'll take home.
It runs on the dyno until the chart is flat where it should be and sharp where you asked. Then the door goes up, and the key is yours.
Turn any machine or part under the lights, swap the paint, read the engineer's notes — then add it to your build order and we'll start pulling parts.
The machine the film is about: a 649cc parallel twin in a hand-welded trellis frame, built to our spec and yours — the bike you watched assemble itself.
Every machine below is assembled by one builder, dyno-run, and signed under the tank. Put any of them on the lift above.
The machine the film is about: a 649cc parallel twin in a hand-welded trellis frame, built to our spec and yours — the bike you watched assemble itself.
The little brother with dirt under its nails: high pipe, long-travel fork, and a single that pulls from idle. Built on the same bench, signed under the same tank.
Our blueprinted 650 twin as you saw it hang in mid-air — balanced, mapped, dyno-run, and delivered on a stand with its torque sheet. For the build happening in your own garage.
A pair of forged alloy wheels with floating discs, balanced and ready to bolt on. The light streaks in beat four come free.
A full-face lid painted in the booth next to the tanks, so your helmet and your machine leave in the same colour. ECE-rated; visor swaps without tools.
“I watched the website pull the engine apart in mid-air and thought: if they'll show me that, they'll show me anything. Six months in, they still answer when I call about a noise that turns out to be nothing.”
“The torque sheet that came with the crate engine matched my own rebuild numbers bolt for bolt. These people measure. That's the whole review.”
“Test ride was up the fire road behind the shop, not around the block. The bike came back dusty and so did I, and the deposit was down before my helmet was off.”
Stocked machines are ready in two weeks. A full custom build runs eight to twelve weeks from sit-down to dyno — you'll get photos at every station and a call before anything irreversible.
The four house paints are in the booth and ready; anything beyond that we mix to order for a small fee. Tanks and helmets are painted in the same session so they age together.
Two years or twenty thousand kilometres on everything we built or touched, and the first service is on us. If a noise worries you, the builder who signed your tank picks up the phone.
Yes — palletised, on a stand, with the dyno chart and torque sheet in a folder on top. We'll video-call you through the first start if you want a second pair of eyes.
The roller door is up most days — bring a helmet, leave with a test ride booked and a build slot on the board.
Tell Redline Works the roads you ride and the machine you keep sketching — the bench takes it from there.