Clem Burke, RIP.

Blondie has long been my favourite band. There are multiple reasons for this, with their music obviously being first and foremost, but not insignificantly, the band was a lifeline for me from a boring and threatening small town existence that didn’t fit me particularly well, to the exciting and artful world of New York City and all that that mecca has always offered all sorts like me. 

At the core of the band has always been three members: co-founders Debbie Harry and Chris Stein, and Clem Burke. Having been with Blondie since the beginning, Burke’s extraordinary drumming has been instrumental in the creation and evolution of the band’s sound and image. 

Clem Burke passed away “following a private battle with cancer”, as a release from the band states. His death date was Sunday, April 6, 2025.

In their statement, the band go on to note that “Clem was not just a drummer; he was the heartbeat of Blondie.” This is the heart of the matter. I don’t quite see how Blondie can continue as a band. Fortunately, they have an album recorded and ready for release sometime this year. It will be Burke’s farewell. 

^ Click to read.

Fans of any band can be forgiven for stating “Member X is one of the greatest guitarists in the game”. We frequently only see the best in the people and things that we love, but in Burke’s case, it’s not hyperbole. He was well recognized and acknowledged as a drummer among drummers. Evidence to support this is online everywhere. 

When the heartbeat of something that has been so integral to your life stops beating, it seems only natural to reflect on its impact. Burke absolutely had a great run, sought out by countless musicians to add his touch to their projects both live an in-studio. He was recognized with an honorary doctorate from the University of Gloucestershire, and he “founded the Clem Burke Drumming project to investigate the physical and mental-health benefits of drumming”, as Wikipedia says. But it’s the fact that he propelled the band that helped me see a different and recognizable way of being that matters most to me. 

As your friends and bandmates say, "Godspeed. Dr. Burke."

Blondie's "Panic of Girls" CD autographed by Harry, Stein, 

and in the upper right corner, Burke. 

The Night God Screamed.

Dir: Lee Madden. Cast: Jeanne Crain, Alex Nicol, Daniel Spelling, Michael Sugich, Barbara Hancock, Dawn Cleary, Gary Morgan & Stewart Bradley. 1971

Never underestimate the power of nostalgia. 

As a 1970s Monster Kid, The Night God Screamed is just the kind of retro horror I eat up. I must have come across images of its skull masked stalker when I was a kid through the pages of Famous Monsters of Filmland or in a book like Denis Gifford's A Pictorial History of Horror Films. Certainly, I was familiar with the film's lurid poster. Whatever the case, that creepy rubber mask was known to me, even if I had no real context for it. All I knew was that it was from a movie I wanted to see. It took me until 2025 to do so. 

Academy Award nominee Jeanne Crain (Elia Kazan's Pinky) has convicted a Charles Manson like cult leader and two of his followers to death row. One night sometime later, while caretaking four teenagers, the remaining cult members lay siege to the house, terrorizing Crain and her charges. 

The first act of the film focuses on the then relatively current Manson Murders Mania, but then, post-conviction, the caretaking scenario comes into play, setting up the rest of the film. What follows, for me and my nostalgia addled synapses, is a tense and satisfying showdown between caretaker and teens, and crazed cult members. 

The Night God Screamed was written by Gil Lasky, who co-produced along with Ed Carlin. What this means to a trash raccoon like me is that it possesses a thoroughly enticing pedigree. Lasky also wrote and co-produced with Carlin an even more nostalgic and even more lurid favourite of mine entitled Blood and Lace, and it shows. Most of the hallmarks of that flick are present here, including its sickly atmosphere, a real feeling of threat, weird surprises, and moments that just may have influenced John Carpenter's classic Halloween.

All in all, The Night God Screamed was a perfect night in at the movies for me.   

Shitkid and the end of music.

Shitkid is (was?) Åsa Söderqvist (at one point it also included bassist Lina Ericsson), a Swedish musician whose music you'll either love... or you won't. From her first Shitkid EP in 2016 though to 2023's "Rejected Fish", Söderqvist's music has sounded just like she's wanted it to sound, even as that has shifted from project to project.

Personally, Shitkid's music has come to sound like the end of music, like it's the last word in contemporary music. I can't put it any better than that. I think that's pretty amazing. 

You can check out Shitkid at Bandcamp. 

A first.

Gazing over at my to-read stack recently, I noted that it was comprised entirely and incidentally of gay material. The thing that hit me about this is that, for the first time in 60 years of living on this planet, three gay publications were available to me and I'd chosen them at random and without purpose beyond entertainment. It may not seem like anything to some, but it was absolutely noteworthy to me.