I echo JB - although my circle never overlapped Angus' much beyond the classes we were both in, I remember him as a quiet, intelligent and talented guy, with a keen intellect, a good grasp of what it takes to be a good student and very popular. No-one likes to be reading obituaries of their contemporaries at our age (41), but this loss seems especially poignant and tragic.

I came up the stairs, pushing past a life size fiberglass china man, into a large room. He occupied himself with the records in the corner, as we all busily poured, chopped and chatted. Ska cut its way through the smoke, and he came over and took my hand. He was just grooving in his bare feet and yellow jumper. I wanted to melt into his coolness. For a moment I doubted myself, but then I escaped into his moment and let him look at me with his eyes. Ice cracked under bourbon, smoke and talk floated, and we danced. Eyes touching, we snapped and flowed. Breathing, watching. He was amused and focused. I rose to the occasion.Later on I bit him and allowed my tongue to taste his sweat. I loved that his thick black hair was steaked with grey, and there were cracks by his eyes. But most of all, I liked the way he danced.

I can't believe he's gone.

i once met angus and ralph steadman at the golden heart pub in london before going to a party for gilbert and george in about 1993, they both got on well together and did a large drawing of hunter s thompson playing golf with a giant gorilla in aspen, rendered in brown sauce and mustard on a piece of board ralph found in a skip outside the pub. they gave it to me but i swapped it for a night in a seedy hotel near euston staion after the party. we were all very drunk and i often wonder what happened to the picture.