Rock n’ Roll Heart: A Tribute to Blondie Drummer Clem Burke

The history of rock n’ roll is littered with broken hearts and betrayals. Less common are those who leave their music community better off than they found it. Clem Burke, who died last year after a cancer battle, was one of those rare birds: An indefatigable and soulful drummer who quietly, effortlessly, made it his mission to elevate and support his fellow musicians. And he didn’t do it to score points – he just did it.

Clem’s friends and comrades-in-arms put together a tribute to him this past week at Jesse Malin’s Bowery Palace, a two-night affair filled to the brim with great songs and stories of Clem’s humble largesse.  (The below is only applicable to Wednesday night, as Thursday sold out in five minutes flat.) Malin and Kathy Valentine of the Go-Go’s got out the old Rolodex and rounded up a who’s who of Clem’s tour mates and admirers to give him a proper Bowery send-off, from his Blondie bandmate Glen Matlock to Steve Wynn (Dream Syndicate), Gail Greenwood (Belly, L7, Gang of Four) and Tommy Stinson (Replacements).

Upstairs at the Palace, there were Clem-themed drink specials like the X-Offender (vodka, St. Germain, lemon juice, simple syrup and soda) and Empty Heart (a prosecco-and-strawberry vodka affair). The small downstairs space was crammed with well-wishers, fans, and musicians with their own fond memories of Clem.

On Wednesday, the roughly two-hour set played like a jukebox blasting out Clem’s favorite songs (many of them hits he played on) all night long.  The spiky spirit of ’77 echoed through plenty of deep cuts from Blondie, the Ramones, the Voidoids, and Johnny Thunders, to name a few.  

All night, the greatest hits kept on coming, kicking off with Jesse Malin’s rendition of Johnny Thunders’ classic, “You Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory” and sailing on through to Glen Matlock’s version of one of Clem’s favorite songs, the Small Faces’ “All or Nothing.” (“Clem was what they call in England a bit of a Mod,” quipped Matlock.)

We were treated to Who (“The Kids Are Alright,” sung by Tommy Stinson), two Ramones classics (“Do You Remember Rock n’ Roll Radio?” and “Rockaway Beach”), the Velvets (“Rock & Roll”), Iggy Pop (“Lust for Life”) and Richard Hell & the Voidoids (“Blank Generation”). Blondie was (of course) well represented with “Poet’s Problem,” “One Way or Another,” “Rip Her to Shreds,” and “Union City Blue” (although nobody attempted to tackle “Dreaming”). (And Kathy Valentine teamed up with the Blondie touring band to rip through the Nerves’ “Hanging on the Telephone,” complete with dialtone intro.)

Clem puns? There were a few, from the hastily-assembled Clembake, consisting of Valentine, Gina Volpe (Lunachicks), Greenwood and Linda Pitmon (Baseball Project), and Manhattan Clem Chowder (Steve Wynn, Jason Victor, Valentine and Pitmon). (The night was meant to mark the US debut of Psycher, a supergroup featuring Brix Smith (the Fall, Adult Net), Valentine, Greenwood and Pitmon, but Brix’s Visa issues necessitated a change of plan.) Clembake roared through the New York Dolls’ “Looking for a Kiss” and a Valentine/Burke original, “Make Me Shake” – the duo’s attempt at channeling Chuck Berry, one of Burke’s rock heroes.

Mike Skill and Brad Elvis played two Romantics hits, “Talking in Your Sleep” and “What I Like About You,” changing the latter’s chorus to “That’s what I like about Clem!” Burke’s longtime band the Split Squad also unveiled a theme song of sorts dedicated to their fallen drummer, and the whole audience sang along: “Clem Burke! Clem Burke!”

Occasionally, the music paused for a brief video interlude, including a video montage of famous drummers like Stewart Copeland, Paul Cook and Hugo Burnham playing the beyond-iconic intro to Blondie’s “Dreaming.”

The Toilet Boys’ Miss Guy riffed while Glen Matlock sorted out bass amp issues: “Being here makes me miss social distancing. Now we’re going to play a song by Clem’s favorite band, the Eagles.” (Cue perplexed laughter.) Bass issues sorted, the band played David Bowie’s “Star.” (“I used to end my DJ sets with this at the end of the night,” said Miss Guy. “Raise a toast to Clem.”)

As you’d expect for a group centered on members of the Dream Syndicate, Manhattan Clem Chowder turned in a propulsive, almost Neu-ish version of “Lust for Life.” (Wynn wanted to give “Dreaming” a try but couldn’t nail Debbie’s high notes.) Before launching into “Rock & Roll,” Wynn quipped, “As Clem would say, it’s saved every one of us here.” 

Burke is heavily associated with the CBGB heyday of punk, but his influences were broad – pop, soul, proto-punk and pub rock, obscure 1960s movie soundtracks, the Velvets.

He brought his stylish, athletic verve to Blondie in 1975 and played with them, on and off, until his death in 2025. Never one to sit still, he was a tireless touring drummer who played with Pete Townshend of the Who (a hero), Iggy Pop, the Eurythmics, and Joan Jett; he spent more than a decade with the Romantics.

A consummate collaborator, Burke was always ready to jump into the studio to help a friend. Danny Sage of DGeneration shared a story about struggling to get his solo album off the ground when he ran into Clem, totally by chance. “Do you need a drummer?” Burke asked. Sage demurred, noting that he was pretty broke. Undeterred, Burke completed the session, demanding payment only in the form of French fries from his favorite neighborhood restaurant.

Burke toured constantly and loved how much his job allowed him to explore new places. London was a particularly beloved stop, filled to the brim with music history, incredible record shops and beloved venues like the Roundhouse, where Blondie played in 1978.  

Glen Matlock called Burke “an honorary Englishman.” The two met early in the punk days, and their friendship never wavered. “He was beloved all over the world,” noted Matlock, adding that they would play together for fun when they could. (They were even roommates for a spell.)  

In his warm, low-key way, Burke seemed to bring his various punk worlds together – London and New York City and Los Angeles. Even in the high-flying 1980s, when everything was neon-bright and cocaine-fueled, the pragmatic Burke stayed focused on what gave him joy: His work.  

In her wonderful memoir, “All I Ever Wanted,” Valentine writes of Burke’s love and support at crucial times when she felt her life was in freefall. (They were partners in the 1980s and remained lifelong friends even after the breakup.) As a musician, he was often praised for his unwavering backbeat – it seems apparent that he was just as loyal and stalwart in his everyday relationships, too.   

Valentine wore a lot of hats on Wednesday night: She played with many of the night’s ad-hoc band lineups, from Clembake and Manhattan Clem Chowder to backing Jesse Malin and Glen Matlock. She helped coordinate the audio-visual interludes. And when she wasn’t busy playing or singing, she spent most of the night hovering stage left, beaming with pride.

Thanks for a fantastic night and a fitting tribute, everyone.  

Stefan Sonic filmed Wednesday night’s show in its entirety. Watch it here: