In years of commercial software development, I learned a number of important principles for designing new products.
(1) "Everyone wants what I would want" is a bad assumption. Chances are there are lots of people out there like you, but a lot of the untapped market may be people who want something different.
(2) There is an adoption curve for anything new. At the head of the adoption curve are people who want things that are new because they are new. At the tail are the people who don't want anything new until it's become old. In the middle are people who can be persuaded for various reasons to try something new, but only if they see other people using it successfully. Therefore the first thing a new product must be is new. The second thing a new product must be is practical. The last thing a new product must be is relatable in terms of older technology. A product that achieves all three can eventually sell to all three adopter types.
Notice how the bike in question tries to fit this model. The gear whine sound it makes struck me as unnecessarily loud, and the Harley people went on and on about the distinctive sound it makes. That sound is different from the traditional sound of Harley, which gets the attention of the early adopters. That sound is unnecessarily loud, which makes the bike relatable to a long tradition of unnecessarily loud Harleys. In a way the early adopters will be having a very traditional Harley experience of riding by and everyone thinking, "There goes one of those damned Harleys!"
(3) Experience is not the same as understanding. The classic example is the client who knows which websites he likes and dislikes thinking that means he can design a website himself.
What you experience riding a powerful bike is real. It is also artificial -- in the sense that it was deliberately crafted by talented designers, working with a toolbox of ideas that are probably unfamiliar to you unless you're a designer yourself. That doesn't mean they're smarter than you (gosh that's a big mistake for designers to make), it means they're more expert in their field than you are in their field.
There may be other ways of producing the experience you value, or indeed entirely novel experiences that would be equally powerful. They can try to reproduce the traditional bike experience, or they can try to redefine it. Chances are they'll fail either way because both are going to be difficult. Still, nobody can really know for sure until they get you on their new bike.
(4) Care about what users have to say, and listen to them very carefully, but don't believe them. Presuming they haven't contradicted themselves (which they'll do sooner or later), and you build them exactly what they ask for, most of the time they won't like it. I call it the "I know what I don't like when I see it" response. Your job as a designer is to think about what users tell you until you understand at least some of their needs better than they do. Then provide them with something they want without having realized they wanted it.
All of which means when you design something, it has to be just the right mix of surprising and familiar. The only way to know whether you've achieved that with a product like a high performance electric motorcycle is to build a prototype and have lots of typical users ride it. The results are probably going to be a total dud, as you're expecting. Or they may be a revelation. Or they may work for other people, but not for you.