Everything that's ever been in Rolling Stone

Those old copies of Rolling Stone in the basement — you can throw them out. Miffed that you somehow misplaced the historic issues with Hunter S. Thompson's masterpiece, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," in them? Banish the guilt. Go to the library and find that most past issues of RS have been stolen? So what?

Now you can have every page of every issue of Rolling Stone's first 40 years at your fingertips via the amazing new box set, "Rolling Stone Cover to Cover" (Bondi Digital Publishing, $125).

Released in conjunction with the bi-weekly's 40th anniversary, the set includes 4 DVD-ROMS with every page — more than 98,000, including the ads — from issue No. 1 in November 1967 to this year's May 7 edition.

The set also includes a 208-page book with behind-the-scenes looks at every year of the Stone, including lots of photos and other material that never made it into print before. And you get a free one-year subscription to the magazine with purchase.

After installing the DVD-ROMs onto my PC — the system requirements include a minimum 512 MB of RAM and 750 MB of free hard-drive space — the first thing I searched for was "Fear and Loathing" — and there it was. Instantly, I was thrust back to the afternoon in 1971 when I first encountered that article, a moment I will never forget because the story was so — to use the jargon of the time — mind-blowing.

But I'd forgotten that the byline was "Raoul Duke" — one of Thompson's noms de plume — and was reacquainted with some of Ralph Steadman's illustrations, also mind-blowing.

Then I looked up the most chilling Stone story I can remember, about the cult surrounding Mel Lyman, a former musician who claimed to be God. It's as scary now as it was in the '70s.

How about the first time Seattle grunge was mentioned? There it is, in January 1992, appropriately in a feature story on Nirvana. I looked up other Nirvana stories — the early ones, which were so positive, and the later, tragic ones — and also some on Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains.

I also tried to look up my own stories (I was a stringer for Rolling Stone in the late 1960s and early '70s) and could not find my name. Damn! I soon found it, however, misspelled as McDonald, a minor glitch (happens to me all the time).

I was a little afraid to open my own stuff. But I found, thankfully, that my old articles aren't too embarrassing. Memories kept flooding back as I read them, especially the piece about Ken Kesey.

The writing and reporting I was most proud of, about the death and funeral of Jimi Hendrix, went uncredited, because my contributions were woven among those of other writers. But I knew what words were mine. To have been part of such a major story, sad as it was, still makes me proud.

It's easy to get lost among the thousands of pages of rock history and pop culture. You can open any issue and electronically thumb through it page by page.

There's an innocence to the early Rolling Stones, but also an attitude that "youth culture," as mainstream media called it back then, was taking over. Something was happening (as Dylan sang) and, while Mr. Jones didn't know what it was, Rolling Stone was trying to capture it.

You can see the evolution of that culture just from the covers, and even the advertisements. At first, most of the ads are for recordings. Then, as advertisers caught on, booze, cigarettes and cars, then all kinds of things.

You can literally watch pop culture become mainstream trolling through these fascinating pages, and see Rolling Stone evolve from a hip rag for young rock fans to one of the best publications in the world.

I'm hooked on "Rolling Stone Cover to Cover." Not only do I now have lots of good reading to catch up on, or reread, but also a reliable source of information on rock history that I'll use personally and professionally.

And now I don't feel so bad that I stupidly threw out years of Rolling Stones in my last big move. I've got them all back now, and they'll last forever.

Patrick MacDonald: 206-4642312 or pmacdonald@seattletimes.com