ALO: I was the new cock of the walk, the new game in town, I came from a different world: Mary Quant, Alexander Plunket Greene, Vidal Sassoon, Hardy Amies, I reeked of Vogue, not the Melody Maker. The world of David Bailey, Terence Donovan, Brian Duffy, photographers whose work for the new world designers, crimpers and fashion mags had already, beats and shutters ahead of rock 'n' roll, UK style, sent a message to the world that the British were coming.

Photo by David Bailey/Conde Nast Publications

ALO: Back stage right was an odd man out. Sometimes on piano, sometimes maracas, he had a Popeye torso, a William Bendix jawline, and a bad Ray Danton haircut: he cared for his 'little three chord wonders' till the day he died. As time went by he would pay me this compliment: 'Andrew Oldham? I wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire.' Yes, the real deal, sixth Stone, Ian Stewart.

Tony King: Andrew, Mick and Keith were like a three-headed monster. They were always together. Andrew and Charlie were close. Bill had nothing to interest him, nor did Ian Stewart, Brian was a cunt, very difficult for anybody to get on with: a fallen angel, with a golden halo surrounding an angelic face, but the soul of the devil.