My mind was wanderin’. I was physically boilin’, so I had to have a cold one, as this was one of those times when it felt like the clock was tickin’ in reverse. After about what seemed to be an hour of pacin’ back and forth the telephone finally rang. I grabbed it so quick that the first ring didn’t even get a chance to finish. It was my New York friend telling me he had some good news for me. He had found a record in his collection by Brimstone Red on the Hot Pitchfork label. My thoughts rushed to my lips before I could even finish thinkin’ them, “What does it sound like? Is it Blues? Where did you find it?He explained to me that he had found the disc about twenty years earlier after an ancient warehouse in his neighborhood had mysteriously burned down. This record was the only thing that had remained in the rubble after the inferno.

He said that he hadn’t even tried to play it because the disc was warped due to the heat of the fire. At that moment, I begged him to make a trade for it. Driven by a force beyond any normal passion for collecting, I offered up a rare, 1927 Vocalion recording by Rev. A.W. Nix titled “Death Might Be Your Christmas Gift” which I knew he wanted from me in a previous trade. After a little regular haggling, the deal was struck and an Express package arrived in my hot hands a few days later. I began to sweat again as I ripped at the cardboard box that possibly contained the only remaining copy from an artist’s entire recorded output. I finally got it open and carefully examined my prize. Realizing first that only one side of record was grooved, I came to the obvious conclusion that it must be a test pressing. The paper label was bright red with a solid black print. The title of the record was “Devil Dealin’” written by N. Hades and the release number was 666. With no matrix number on the label itself, I noticed that the number N999S was scratched into the inner wax around the small paper circle. Now, I decided was the moment to give the disc a revered spin on the turntable. No luck. The record was so warped and worn that every time I placed the needle on the scarred surface, even with extra weight, all I got was what appeared to be sparks shooting up from the shellac. After many unsuccessful attempts, I decided to slow down the original speed of 78 RPM for this disc on the platter, hopefully, just to get the needle to track. The needle made contact a little into the playing groove so I rotated the record backwards to cue up the beginning. And what did I hear? All I’ll say is that the hi-fi revealed, from the wavering valley of that disc, words that cannot be repeated right now. But I will tell you, since that day, I have been scared to death of that black ten-inch record. With all of the strange and complex sagas and hearsay in the Blues world, it makes me wonder whether this controversial and timeless being resurface again? Will this ominous figure again sing and play once for a select few? Will this obscure individual record once more to continue a legacy with even more soulful talent in the future? And what if this cunning and mysterious character were to approach you and attempt to make the perfect deal with you? Beware of the name Brimstone Red. To add credence to this story, over the years it has been said that many recall someone by that name talking to historical musicians including the likes of Charley Patton in the early 1920’s, Robert Johnson and Big Bill Broonzy in the late ‘20’s, Jimi Hendrix in the late ‘50’s and even more recently, Stevie Ray Vaughan and John Campbell. Any observations were fleeting at best, however. Lately some say that someone using the name Red Brimstone has been lurking around numerous Blues hangouts involving some of the new flames of the Blues such as Jonny Lang, Kenny Wayne Shepherd and possibly others.