(FORTUNE Small Business) – SAMMY HAGAR Cabo Wabo Enterprises

Rock stars reap red-carpet privileges, even when it comes to launching a new business venture. Think about it: They have an instant brand (their name), an established customer base (their fans), and, inevitably, a substantial amount of money to back almost anything they want to do. Plus, they've already spent a lifetime selling a single product--themselves--to a market massive enough to intimidate even the gutsiest entrepreneur. But for them, music and all that comes with it--the artistic creation, the touring, the endless promotion--will always come first. So, wait: Does this make them natural-born CEOs or simply entrepreneurs-come-lately? However you classify them, at least they've got one thing right--either start a business based on something you know well (like hip-hop duo Outkast and Misfits' Jerry Only) or found one predicated on your passions (like Ted Nugent, Henry Rollins, and Indigo Girls' Emily Saliers). "I became a real lover of fine tequila in the mid-1980s, when I first tasted the stuff homemade down in rural Mexico," says Sammy Hagar, the former frontman (1985-96) of rock group Van Halen and proprietor of premium-blend Cabo Wabo Tequila. "I started reading up on it, learning the distillation process, so I could become a tequila aficionado and launch my own brand." Today, after years of promoting the label through his songs, Hagar says his ten-year-old Cabo Wabo, based in Northern California and distributed across North America at about $42 per bottle, can be found in most high-end restaurants and inside tequila-infused dishes cooked by the likes of Emeril Lagasse. "This business, remember, is a fringe benefit," says Hagar, who refuses to raise prices when something drives up production costs in Mexico. "I can afford to not make huge profits when I hit bumps in the road." Some guys have all the luck.

HENRY ROLLINS 2.13.61

What's the benefit of being the ring-leader of an underground hard-rock movement before your band goes commercial? Having a cult that follows you everywhere, even if it's to soak up your next venture. That's what happened to Henry Rollins, who started up L.A.-based publishing company 2.13.61 (his birthday), in 1984. Initially an outlet for Rollins' own writing, three-person 2.13 has become a sounding board for edgy novelists and musicians' memoirs. Rollins oversees all artistic aspects of production and picks the authors. His criterion: writing that "doesn't lie." The books sell well in indie bookstores, whose woes have forced him to limit new releases. "They were our bread and butter," he says. "But we're lucky to have a great distributor."

TED NUGENT Sunrize Safaris

Welcome to Nugeville, Nugent's politically saturated business sphere, which may seem more tame than the wild reputation he gained as a rocker 25 years ago (his concerts today are more subdued), but it isn't. It consists of Ted Nugent United Sportsmen of America, Kamp for Kids, and Adventure Outdoors magazine, but Nugent's most hands-on with Sunrize Safaris, his personally led hunting trips. "I consider myself a good CEO for that," he says. "I am an independent, self-sufficient, rugged individual who, alone, will determine the most important functions of my life--including all of my businesses." Eight times a year, Nugent escorts a group of 12 people (for $3,500 a pop) into the wilderness of Texas or upper Michigan, where he "baptizes them into the world of hunting." The best part? He cooks what you kill.

2DRE & BIG BOI Outkast Clothing

So the story goes like this: Long before then-Atlanta high schoolers Andre Benjamin (Dre, left) and Antwan Patton (Big Boi) collaborated for the sake of hip-hop, they had already found a common thread in something else--an appreciation of fashion. "I noticed Dre after he won 'best dressed' in high school," said Big Boi. "He was always tweaking store-bought clothes." Five Outkast albums later (one platinum, one No. 2 on the Billboard 200 album chart), they hooked up with an ex-Ruff Ryders/urban-wear promoter and decided to give clothing the same pro-Southern mien that they had already established within their music. The colorful line, aimed now at women ("Outties") as well as men, pulled in just over $20 million in 2001, its first year.

EMILY SALIERS Watershed Restaurant

Few might seek peace in an old commercial garage, but that's what Emily Saliers--half of folk-pop duo Indigo Girls--and her three current business partners found three years ago when they converted the suburban Atlanta site into an earthy restaurant, Watershed. The menu? Rustic, Southern comfort food, made from locally grown produce. "We use a holistic approach with our food, so people can feel the purity of it," says Saliers, who manages the wine list when she's in town on break from touring, recording, or promoting her restaurant. To her, an eating experience at Watershed should be like coming home. "In a nation of strip malls and business homogenization, it's nice to own a mom-and-pop business--something unique."

JERRY ONLY Congruent Machine Co.

For Misfits bassist Jerry Only, heavy metal constitutes more than just the genre of his revived band's repertoire--it's his day job. As president of Proedge, his family company's hobby/tools plant (and largest division) in Vernon, N.J., he oversees the production of at least 2,000 pounds of aluminum per week, which is used to make things like art knives and the bolts for space shuttles. The only time he's away from the 40-person firm is when he's touring or promoting the band at trade shows. "I used to play a show in New York till 4 a.m. and then be in the shop at 6 a.m.," says Only, whose work at Proedge funded his 26-year-old band's initiatives until a couple of years ago. "I've always tried to balance the two and keep a strong work ethic, because it makes me appreciate my music--my first love--all the more."