Issue no. 60, June 11, 1970

Photograph by ANNIE LIEBOVITZ

Issue no. 95, November 11, 1971

Illustration by Ralph steadman

Issue no. 107, April 27, 1972

Photograph by ANNIE LIEBOVITZ

Issue no. 115, August 17, 1972

Illustration by Ralph steadman

Issue no. 118, September 28, 1972

Illustration by Ralph steadman

Issue no. 162, June 6, 1974

Illustration by Peter Palombi

Issue no. 173, November 7, 1974

Illustration by Ray Domingo

Issue no. 239, May 19, 1977

Photograph by ANNIE LIEBOVITZ

Issue no. 269, July 13, 1978

Photograph by Beverly Parker

Painted by Jack Doonan

Issue no. 880, October 25, 2001

Photograph by Davies + Starr

Issue no. 910, November 28, 2007

Illustration by Matt Groening

Issue no. 922, May 15, 2003

Illustration by andy cowles

Issue no. 923, May 29, 2003

Photograph by Martin schoeller

Issue no. 959, October 14, 2004

Photograph by Norman Jean Roy

Issue no. 995, March 9, 2006

Photograph by Platon

Issue no. 1056, July 10, 2008

Photograph by Peter Yang

Issue no. 1063, October 16, 2008

Illustration by Robert Grossman

Issue no. 1079, May 28, 2009

Photograph by Sam Jones

Issue no. 1100, March 18, 2010

Photograph by Terry Richardson

Issue no. 1156, May 10, 2012

Photograph by Mark seliger

Issue no. 1341, July 2020

Illustration by Kadir nelson

Pedro Gomes/Redferns

The Lighter

BY bret michaels

When I was fifteen years old, I got dropped off to see Foghat and Sweet at the Hershey Park Arena in Pennsylvania. It was me, my friend, and my girlfriend, Jody. When Sweet hit the stage and opened with “Ballroom Blitz,” up came my lighter, with the flame as wide open as I could put it. It was burning my fingers, but I kept it there, because that was just the cool thing to do. It felt instinctual. In the early bar days with Poison, the only lighters we saw were if someone was actually firing up a cigarette. But we became lighter-worthy, and that’s the greatest feeling in the world. When we do “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” and “Something to Believe In,” there are thousands. It’s pretty damn impressive. They’re saying, “Hey, I may be back here 272 rows, but I think this song kicks ass.”

Bret Michaels is a singer, guitarist, and frontman of the band Poison.

Apple via Getty Images

The ipod

BY moby

The iPod makes the days of portable CD players seem like a bad, distant memory. I love the novelty of having all of my favorite CDs in one tiny little box, all just waiting to be heard. Having 5,000 songs on something the size of a cigarette pack. Two years ago, I had a meeting with some people from Apple wherein I was singing the praises of iTunes. My only problem with iTunes, I said, was that there wasn’t a portable MP3 player that was proprietary for the Mac. They looked at each other and said, “Well, we shouldn’t show this to you, because it’s only a prototype, but…” and handed me the first-ever iPod. Now, you can’t imagine music any other way. I can be sitting on an airplane and think to myself: “Self, wouldn’t you like to listen to the first Roxy Music record?” And there it is.

Moby is a musician, producer, and animal rights activist. He hosts the Moby Pod podcast.

Steve Eichner/Getty Images

The Concert T-Shirt

BY Dave Baksh

They used to signify what kind of music you listened to, what kind of person you were. If you were a metalhead, you wore a metal T-shirt. I just bought an Iron Maiden Life After Death shirt at some vintage store — it’s got a bit of the beer gut from the guy who wore it before me. I absolutely love that, to know that it’s been a party guy’s shirt. I wore it when we played in England, and Iron Maiden came backstage after the show. They looked at it and said, “Nice shirt, man.” Today, concert tees keep bands on the road, because they make money off the merchandise. The first concert T-shirt I ever wore on tour I bought at a Goldfinger tour. I was 16. The next day, I put it on and it fit great. Now it’s got the beer-gut impress, ’cause I like beer now. Every concert shirt has a story.

Dave Baksh plays guitar and sings in
Sum 41.

SSPL/Getty Images

Technics

BY Questlove

In the rap game, one rite of passage is rebelling. I got my master’s degree in the ’Pac School of Thuggery in the Seventies, after my gadget-addict pops told me not to touch his Technics record player — the audio equivalent of the Ferrari in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. At that point, I would judge a record based on how it sounded on various pitch controls — nothing says loving like Sly Stone’s “Just Like a Baby” on a Chipmunks-esque 45 rpm. When my dear old dad, [Fifties R&Ber] Lee Andrews, left the house, he was tempting me. Why hold me back from figuring out if that dog whistle on Sgt. Pepper actually worked? Nothing could stop me, until I forgot to quit while I was ahead. “Ahmir?” “Yes, Father?” “Tell me why Grover Sings the Blues is on my record player?”

Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson is the drummer for the Roots.

Scott Olson/Getty Images

Jack Daniel’s

BY Slash

The coolest rock stars I’d ever seen in pictures always had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. There’s a picture of Keith Richards getting out of a limo with Patti Hansen — bottle of Jack in his hand. There’s a great old picture of Robert Plant and Jimmy Page on an airplane looking really stoned, with Page holding a bottle of Jack. And there’s one of Aerosmith in their heyday, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on their drum riser. I started drinking Jack as soon as I could afford it. I’d get to the studio at noon and have a Jack and coffee. Then it was straight up at night. Eventually, it was just shots. There was a point where all I needed in life, besides my guitar, was cigarettes and Jack Daniel’s. I don’t drink as much anymore, but I still like my Jack and Coke at night. Just remember: Quaaludes and Jack Daniel’s don’t mix.

Slash is the lead guitarist of Guns n’ Roses and has released two solo albums.

Robert Alexander/Getty Images

Converse All Stars

BY Nick Wheeler

We’ve all been wearing Chuck Taylors since we were five. They’ve always been hip. I remember seeing Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys Are Back in Town” concert video, where Phil Lynott is jumping around in a pair of turquoise Chuck Taylors. That totally solidified my love of the shoe. I also remember this huge picture of Poison’s C.C. De Ville hanging on the wall at the Guitar Center in Los Angeles, where he’s wearing black high-top Chuck Taylors and making this whole rock-star stance. It’s pretty hot. I had the red Chuck high-tops when I was a kid, and I thought I was cool for wearing them. They’re good shoes — not too puffy, and you can wear them with anything. Plus, they’re cheap. Before they started making them overseas, I could get two pairs for twenty dollars. That’s good for a starving artist. I’ll never wear anything else.

Nick Wheeler is a songwriter and guitarist for the All-American Rejects.