IT was a night anticipated to be high on emotion.

An expectant sell-out crowd at Holmfirth’s Picturedrome were strapped in and ready to be taken on the emotional rollercoaster ride of their lives.

Seventies guitar hero Wilko Johnson was diagnosed about two months ago with terminal pancreatic cancer of which he has refused chemotherapy and given less than a year to live.

But rather than recoiling into submission, the Canvey Island rocker revealed: “I’ve never been in this state where I’m feeling so intensely alive.”

At his own request the Dr Feelgood and The Blockheads bluesman chose the Picturedrome, stating: “Now at the end we can choose the ones we’re going to get the best kicks off,” to host one of only four UK dates on this his precious yet jubilant farewell tour.

Speaking to WoW before the tour, Wilko said: “The Picturedrome is one of the ideal rock n roll venues I’ve ever seen – it’s the right size.

“It’s big enough to give a feeling of occasion, it’s a big stage so everyone can see the show and it’s funky.”

Tickets sold out in 30 minutes with fans travelling from as far afield as Hong Kong with others parking camping vans nearby. And boy, did he deliver.

This gig was not a sentimental showcase of his life’s work, it was a majestic, both arms in the air YES, to pure rock n roll delivered as a thank you to all those who had supported him throughout his career by this rugged, tough ass, balls of steel rocker and we joined him wholly and completely in his euphoric state.

From the moment he plunged into the opening chords he had us in the palm of his hand and by the time Roxette was fired at us, the crowd were bouncing.

It was clear the 65-year-old was having the time of his life on stage forming a powerful triumvirate with the irrepressible Norman Watt-Roy – his spider fingers crawling all over that bass – and drummer Dylan Howe providing the backbone as they rattled through a breathtaking 90-minute set featuring his solo and Dr Feelgood classics.

Down by the Jetty, Sneakin’ Suspicion, Don’t Let Your Daddy Know, Route 66, Milk and Alcohol, Paradise, Barbed Wire Blues ... they just kept coming, relentlessly.

Stepping out from behind the microphone, he prowled and growled across the stage with his trademark swagger firing his Fender Telecaster at us with chords through the heart.

When I’m Gone was driven at us with hardly a trace of irony but Wilko flashed a cheeky grin and gave us a knowing nod in recognition of the huge applause.

He let the music do the talking but introduced the closing double header saying: “I’d like to leave you with something from 37 years ago,” before firing into Back In The Night then letting rip with She Does It Right.

“Goodnight, God bless you and thank you,” he declared before they exited the stage prompting huge cries of “WILKO, WILKO, WILKO.”

Returning to huge cheers with Bye, Bye Johnny, Wilko produced a virtuoso guitar finale, throwing his Telecaster behind his head, and another massive sing-a-long resumed, this time loaded with incredible poignancy.

But all too soon it was over.

The true Brit, who never stopped gigging, didn’t milk his ovation, but departed with a smile and a wave as we were left to catch our breaths.

It may well have been one of the last gigs of his life ... and it was a huge privilege to have attended the party.