You could hear it in the first few bars of any Blondie track: that unmistakable pulse, that urgency, that glorious controlled chaos. Clem wasn’t just the guy in the back. He was the engine. The heartbeat.

Burke passed away this week at 70, following a private battle with cancer. It’s the kind of news that doesn’t just sting—it echoes. Because for so many of us who grew up on the collision of punk, pop, and new wave, Clem Burke was part of the blueprint.

He joined Blondie in 1975 and gave the band its backbone—tight, wild, unpredictable in all the best ways. His drumming didn’t just support Debbie Harry’s swagger and snarl—it danced with it. “Dreaming,” “Call Me,” “Atomic,” “One Way or Another”—none of those songs hit the same without Clem tearing it up behind the kit. 

But Clem never stayed in one lane. He lent his talent to the Ramones, Iggy Pop, Joan Jett, the Eurythmics, and countless others. Wherever music needed fire, he showed up with matches.

He wasn’t just a drummer. He was an artist. A lifer. A rebel in rhythm.

Rest easy, Clem. The beat goes on—but it’ll never hit quite the same without you.