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Bloody Social Nights: The Ballad of Burke and Biden


Monday, August 25, 2008 - 11:03 am (EST)
By Ray LeMoine

NOTE: I originally posted this up here in Feb. But since Joe Biden was named VP, and this story is about his nephew Jamie’s band, I figured I’d repost it to remind you that other Bidens besides Joe are cool…I should’ve titled it “Just Don’t Make This About My Uncle…” Anyway, enjoy and check out Bloody Social.

New York Magazine commissioned this feature in summer 2007, but it never ran. My job was to spend a few months following the band Bloody Social, who feature Calvin Kleun male model Jamie Burke on vocals, Joe Biden’s nephew Jamie Biden on guitar, and Drew Beat from Bold on drums. My editor quit right as the story was finishing up. In summer 07 no downtown crew raged like Bloody Social. Endless thanks to Adam Fisher. Also to Vegas and JZ…

Bloody Social Nights: The Ballad of Burke and Biden
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Jamie Burke and Drew “Beat” Thomas

1.
Downtown rock band Bloody Social are about to perform at a party sponsored by Myspace at Irving Plaza. But first the band has to takes some pictures. Every lens angles towards singer Jamie Burke, the London-born Calvin Klein model, a lanky, grunge-y longhair. His two black suction cup eyes mesmerize the paparazzi as they yell “Jamie, Jamie” without pause. Burke leans left and whispers to Bloody Social’s guitarist, who’s also a tall long hair named Jamie—Biden. He’s the nephew of Democratic Presidential candidate Joe Biden. The two Jamies wear all black, save Burke’s grey suit vest over a sleeveless tee and Biden’s grey bandana. The rest of the band is blurred among Bloody Social’s dozen-strong posse: a crew of club promoters, fashion designers, pro skateboarders, hairstylists, rockers, and models.

At 22, Jamie Burke is already an established playboy. A scan of Google images shows Burke in various states of boldface. Snowboarding in Aspen with Kate Moss. Smooching Lindsay Lohan outside Pastis in the Meatpacking District. Massaging a topless Sienna Miller on a Caribbean beach. Chilling with Boy George outside a club. Walking hand in hand with Courtney Love. Gracing Calvin Klein’s premier Soho billboard space on Houston at Broadway, his nose ringed blue steel stare and sexy man locks embracing model Lara Stone. A New York Times Style article headlined “Another Summer Of Love” using said billboard as a prime example of a neo-hippy fashion trend. Burke and crop-top Armani model Agyness Dean hugging nude in Vanity Fair, dubbed “Models du Jurs 2007.”

It’s 11pm, show time, but the thousand-capacity room is only half-full. Even amongst this sophisticated, guest list-only crowd of publicists, assistants, bloggers, editors, and label reps, Bloody Social are a band most have heard of but never actually heard. Taking the stage bathed in red smoke and feedback, Bloody Social blasts the spacious club with heavy Hollywood influenced blues-punk, a unique sound in New York’s current Brooklyn-centric 80s influenced rock scene. Burke shimmied across the stage doing a swerve dance, singing in a raspy, Weiland-y, voice. Biden breaks into a deep space solo.

A few songs in, the crowd polarizes. Men flee towards the (open) bar at the club’s rear while women swoon to Burke’s sermon. A girl at the bar points out that two of the band’s song choruses, “where do we go now” and “kick start my heart,” are already taken by Guns N’ Roses and Motley Crue respectively. Another girl, who works at Bumble and Bumble salon, says she could “never date a guy with better hair than me,” admitting that the entire band does.

Bloody Social formed just six months ago. Cocooned within a nightlife-fashion-celebrity nexus, the band has fast earned a reputation for unruly club shows and sordid after-parties. But with the record industry’s 20% annual decline hitting year seven, Bloody Social has no label bankroll and are in the unique position of being rock stars without a record. Leaving them stigmatized as male socialites trying to capitalize on connections. Still, the band’s first six months have been a montage of pure rock n’ rock mythology, complete with meddling starlets, battling egos, magazine photo shoots, tabloid gossip, and decadent trips to Miami, LA, and Brazil.

Ten minutes after Bloody Social’s set ends, I’m downstairs in the men’s room. Suddenly Burke bursts in with two sweaty, skinny women. All three huddle into a metal stall. This being a Live Nation venue with a North Korean police state vibe, one had to be impressed by Burke’s public Columbian orgy. A third girl pops in a few seconds later screaming, “Jamie, you fookin’ bastard!” in an Oxbridge accent. Burke opened the stall door and yanked her in too. Cheers, mate!

2.
“Just don’t make this about my uncle,” says Jamie Biden, 28, hiding behind thick plastic aviators and a newly grown beard. It’s a hot August afternoon outside the Belmont Lounge on E 15th St near Union Square. Biden is the Belmont’s newly hired “creative director,” and a previously upscale bar is now effectively a rock band’s clubhouse.
It gets better after jump…

Following Biden through the Belmont’s narrow basement space, with comfortable low-slung couches and booths lining its dark walls, leads out to a backyard. There, Jamie Burke sprawls on a cushion bench nursing a coffee and puffing a cig. He’s wearing shiny silver and black pointy shoes, pink 80s shades, black jeans, and an inside out shredded grey t-shirt. His bushel of sandy hair is tied like a lightning zapped geisha’s. Both ears are double pierced with silver rings, and he still sports a nose ring.

Burke tells me he arrived in New York in 2004, at 19. “I came for the Johnny Ramone memorial concert,” Burke says. He speaks fast with ironic London wit in a croaky posh voice. “All I brought was a guitar and about 200 quid, and I lived at the Hotel on 17th Street–shoddy place. I’d quit the London Film School and was trying to set up a band. I ended up working as a bar back and tending bar at Scenic,” a since closed East Village rock club.

Meanwhile, Biden came to New York to attend Fordham Law School around the same time in 2004. The Pennsylvania raised Biden was fresh out of Georgetown, where he majored in International Relations (a Biden family strong suit–his uncle is often mentioned as a potential Secretary of State). A year later Biden quit law school to focus on music. “It’s all I ever wanted to do,” Biden says. So he started going out every night, to concerts and nightclubs, trying to meet musicians. Which is how he met Burke.

“I seem to remember puking outside a nightclub,” Burke says.

Biden agrees: “Yeah, when I met Jamie he was throwing up next to a dumpster outside Bungalow 8. I ended up sitting outside while he puked.”

“Somebody’s gotta hold your head back,” Burke adds. They go sentence for sentence.

“So we sat on 27th Street and ended up talking about music until dawn,” Biden says.

As a front man/lead guitarist combo, the Jamies nail the roles. Burke is the Natural One With Highly Chiseled Features, like a real life version of Owen Wilson’s character Hansel in Zoolander. He’s got a happy go lucky vigor. “I’ve been on a lot of couches, let’s just put it at that—I was homeless for about six months,” says Burke, an admitted freeloader. Biden, on the other hand, is the Serious Introspective One. Easily mistaken for a brain dead faux-Slash, Biden’s actually a policy wonk applying a Grand Strategy to the music world, thinking hard before answering simple questions about, say, his taste in rock DVDs: “Hmmm…mmm. Pink Floyd ‘Live at Pompei’ is quite inspiring.”

It’s clear why the relationship works, as every band needs their Glimmer Twins. Burke has Mick Jagger’s chiseled face and Keith Richards’ party boy charm. Whereas Biden shares Jagger’s business sense and Richards’ haphazard not all there pose. Sure the Jamies share things in common, both having given it all up for rock n roll, but it’s more about two halves making a whole. What Burke embodies, downtown’s ultra-cool, Biden, with his political, legal, and music knowledge, can expertly market. And what Biden’s missing– the sex, drugs, and rock n roll credentials–are what Burke’s publicly known for.

Having found each other, all the Jamies needed was a credible rhythm section. A pan-downtown search led them to drummer Drew Thomas and bassist Jimmy Caputo, two old school career rockers, or essentially the opposites of the Jamies. Drummer Drew Thomas is a tattooed post-punk with floppy Britpop hair and a penchant for black leather. A vegan, he looks younger than his 36 years. Back in the late 80s he was known as Drew Beat, the drummer of Crippled Youth and Bold, influential New York hardcore punk bands that played riot-like shows alongside contemporaries Youth of Today, Gorilla Biscuits, and Judge at CBGB’s. Thomas went on to form Into Another, a post-hardcore band that signed a major label deal and hit peak success as the co-headliner of the first Vans Warped Tour in 1994. Of course, the Jamies found Thomas at an East Village club. “Everything about this band happens after hours,” Thomas told me.

Likewise, the Jamies found bassist Jimmy Caputo, 30, outside the Misshapes dance party in the West Village. Caputo’s from Staten Island and sports the very long hair and all-black clothes of a metal head. He also plays in a band with transsexual performer Miss Guy from the Toilet Boys, which is how the Jamies heard about him. Caputo was described by Biden as: “The hired gun—a career bassist who’s out there working every night.”

Bloody Social formed in January 2007. They rehearsed three times then headed into the studio in February to record the “Sharpshooter” EP, a rough four-song demo of balls-out rock n’ roll.

On February 28th of this year, Bloody Social played their first show, at Club Europa in Greenpoint. “I was nervous and hell and fell off the stage,” Burke recalls. The band hit its tread in March at the Delancey, a tri-level LES rock temple. “We brought down loads of people,” Burke says about the band’s 140 person guest list in a room that barely fits that many. “Drew’s crew, Jimmy’s crew, our crew–the old kids and the new kids. It was like game on, we’re ready to be on the scene,” as a band, sure, but Burke’s been a man on the scene for some time. (ED Note: at the show was Walter, Sammy, and many other Youthe Crew alum that NYMag wld have no clue about.)

3.
Jamie Burke owned 2006. In twelve months he morphed from a homeless East Village bar tender into an international playboy/male model/front man. Like the chosen few before him, it was a mix of pure luck, ambition, intelligence, and family connections that allotted Burke’s journey to fame.

Burke grew up in central London, the son of a lawyer mother and wealthy real estate developer father. He attended the UK’s storied Charterhouse School, an upper class breeding ground, at a cost of $50k per year. Through Charterhouse and his father’s powerful friends like Virgin CEO Richard Branson, Burke became enmeshed in London’s jet set.

In fact, Burke’s best friend is Sam Branson, son of the Virgin boss. Over New Years 2006, Sam invited Burke to travel by private jet to the Branson’s private Caribbean island, where supermodel Kate Moss happened to be recovering from a rehab stint. Moss had recently been photographed sniffing coke by a British tabloid. Fallout ensued, and Moss broke up with junky boyfriend Pete Doherty, who many felt dragged her down. For a rebound Moss chose Burke, eleven years her junior. The tryst moved to Aspen, where they were photographed making out on a chairlift. With Aspen came Warhol-ian fame for Burke. The London tabloids dubbed him a “wannabe rocker.” Upon hearing his son slept with Kate Moss, Burke’s father “chortled: “Good Boy!” according to the UK’s Daily Mirror.

Others found Burke less of a “Good Boy!” Especially his then live-in girlfriend, model Jessie Leonard, who learned of Burke’s infidelity while watching TV. “It flashed across the bottom of the screen ‘Kate Moss in Aspen with new boyfriend Jamie.’ I said, ‘No, it couldn’t be,’” Leonard told the Daily Mirror.

When I ask Burke at the Belmont what happened with Moss, he says, “Shit happens. I don’t want to talk about my love life.” Nonetheless, Moss was soon back with Doherty.

Meanwhile, Burke returned to New York a newly minted bachelor and Kate Moss certified stud. In March, Burke proved he wasn’t a one hit wonder. As one blogger put it, “Jamie Burke + Lindsay Lohan + 60 Thompson Hotel=one hot slumber party!!!” There began a fling that lasted through spring. Before long Burke and Biden had their fateful puke meeting. By fall Burke had moved on to Courtney Love, the ex-wife of Kurt Cobain, who called Burke her “Adonis.” Then in January 2007 Burke was spotted snogging Sienna Miller during a Factory Girl party at Ian Schrager’s Gramercy Hotel, in the Rose Bar, surrounded by Julian Schnabel’s paintings and mod-Edwardian design. Burke and Miller subsequently became a couple.

The gossip bloggers may have had trouble seeing Burke’s appeal, calling him a “skeazy-looking,” “creepy,” “man-whore” who “looks like he’s teeming with VD” and smells “like 30-year-old mothballs.” But with heavyweights like Moss, Lohan, Love, and Sienna reduced to notches in his belt, Burke’s “It”-ness was ready to be tapped the fashion Gods.

It was Lauryn Flynn, Calvin Klein’s director of celebrity relations, who launched Burke’s modeling career. The two met at a party in 2006, Burke told me. But nothing happened until after he started dating Sienna. “Lauryn called me when I was in LA this winter–I was out there trying to book gigs,” Burke remembers, still at the Belmont Lounge. “I did a shoot and literally within in three days it was like boom. Never had any goal of it, any interest. They just sent me a contract.” For how much, seven figures? “A lot of money, but not millions, no. I’ve always believed money isn’t a very productive thing to have.”

This March, Burke’s thirty-foot by twenty-foot Calvin Klein billboard went up in Soho. His impression: “When I first saw it I was baked and turned away because I didn’t want to process it. I still haven’t. But it’s cool, though, whatever.”

4.
With Bloody Social forming right as Burke’s newfangled fame hit perfect pitch, Jamie Biden faced a challenge: How to best bottle Burke’s lightning? Recognizing a once in a lifetime opportunity, Biden acted fast to channel Burke’s sexual currency for Bloody Social’s benefit. A lesser man would’ve gotten lost in the glare of Patrick McMullan’s flash. Pretty girls, free drugs and booze, lifted velvet ropes galore—Burke’s power pass invited incomparable coattail coasting. But Biden grew up in the shadow of iconic, newsworthy men. While a guy like Burke is an awe inspiring superman to us mortals, to Biden he’s just an average Joe. Biden’s unique perspective allowed him to “ignore all that celebrity bullshit,” as he says, and use the focused methodology of a political campaign to launch Bloody Social’s career.

First, Biden installed as the band’s manager his best friend, Dan Dimin, a former record label A&R rep. Together they set up a diverse string of shows at local clubs, polling the LES populists at The Pitt and reaching out to the fabulous set at The Plumm. Next, Biden took the show on the road: To Miami in late March, for the Winter Music Conference, international nightlife’s annual bacchanal. Bloody Social did a late-show at the Sagamore Hotel: “Not really our crowd, but huge exposure,” Biden says. Days later, back in New York to play a V Magazine party at the Box, they were kicked off Simon Hammerstein’s sex stained stage for playing too loud. “When the curtain came down on us,” Biden says, “we played on anyways.” Three nights later a 1:30 am show at Snitch ended with pole dancing and brawls. In a month’s time Bloody Social played to every downtown demographic. In the process, they sort of invented a new sound.

Bloody Social’s agenda might best be understood through their Myspace page. Maintained by Biden, its lead photo is a black and white image by glam photographer Mick Rock. Biden’s on a stool with an acoustic guitar while the band surrounds him, looking like holdovers from a CBGB’s Sunday Matinee who’ve lived at a commune along the Mississippi Delta since 1989. Burke told me he wanted to make “raunchy sex” records, and nearly every myspace comment is from a girl using the word “hot.”

Or take the band’s website. The front page is an illustration of each band member as grooving skeletons, looking punk not Grateful Dead, with knives, flames, the number 13, and mentions of hell. If Biden’s lightning in a bottle is apocalyptic blues-punk then, obviously, self-destruction must be part of the deal.

5.
Bloody Social faced its first crisis in May, during a band meeting at the Gramercy Hotel’s Rose Bar, when a New York Daily News reporter overheard a catastrophe in the making. The next day’s headline read: “Sienna Miller, the Yoko of Bloody Social?” Supposedly the band was pissed at being dubbed “Sienna’s boyfriend’s band.” They gave Burke a tough choice: Sienna Miller or…Bloody Social. Knowing Biden, it’s easy to imagine he staged this diplomatic intervention, complete with envoys (Dimin) and a public relations strategy (a Daily News leak).

My first encounter with Bloody Social came shortly after, in mid-May, at a weeknight show at West Chelsea’s Stereo. Crushed inside the silvery L-shaped room was an unusual mix: orange skinned guidos, underwear-less Jersey girls, East Villagers, and fashion industry people. Post-show in Stereo’s heavily guarded VIP section, at a back table reserved for Bloody Social and friends was Lindsay Lohan dancing on a couch above a swaying pit of onlookers, dressed ala Bloody Social in a bandana and black sleeveless shirt (hers offers a shadow of cleavage). By 2am there were bottles of Jack Daniels and Grey Goose, buckets of Coronas, pot smoke. Seeing Bloody Social and friends in action was like US Weekly as imagined by Vice Magazine—both pop and sleazy chic.

Missing at Stereo was Sienna Miller, who was in town filming a Dylan Thomas biopic–playing a role that, coincidentally, was originally slated for Lohan. Club-goers wondered aloud if Burke had kicked Miller to the curb or vice-versa.

All the Sienna drama didn’t stop Interscope Records from flying Bloody Social out to LA in early June. The band stayed at the Riot House, and gigged at the Viper Room and Lex Deux, but still weren’t offered a record deal.

Next came the Myspace Irving Plaza gig—and again no Sienna. Days later Bloody Social flew to Sao Paulo, Brazil, to play a fashion show and another gig at …a brothel. Soon after Sienna Miller was spotted in full canoodle with Bad Boy CEO Sean “Diddy” Combs. So did Burke lose his girl to Diddy or did he choose his band over the starlet? “Fuck off, seriously. It’s not for public consumption,” Burke says. Tabloid speculation later claimed Burke did in fact leave Sienna because she was a Yokoish distraction for the band.

What Sienna Miller couldn’t manage—breaking up Bloody Social—Burke still might with his front-man antics. In mid-July I’m back at the Belmont Lounge for Bloody Social’s Delancey show after-party. Burke is draped over a Goth-girl, looking wasted in an oversized white t-shirt with “DROP ACID NOT BOMBS” printed on it in day-glo. A shiny auburn scarf wraps his neck. Getting to his feet, Buke bumps a wicker chair then opens the door to inside, seeing drummer Drew Thomas. Burke grabs Thomas’ shoulders and pushes him, trying to throw him over table. A bystander pulls Burke off. Burke stomps off. Thomas shakes his head, confused.

Earlier in the evening, the band played the Delancey’s basement to a capacity crowd, including model Agyness Dean and the Strokes’ manager Ryan Gentiles. Then it was off to the Belmont, where, at 3am, thirty or so Bloody Social friends relax on couches and smoke out back.

Burke and Thomas had just scuffled when Biden turns to me, whiskey bottle in hand, and says, “Welcome to the worst after party ever.”

Things move fast in the coming weeks. The band goes to Philly to record a new, bigger and better sounding EP. In between recording sessions is a blues jam with Police guitarist Andy Summers at MILK Studios in Chelsea and a trip down to Baltimore for V Fest. For a while Burke’s in London, but he’s back for Fashion Week, hosting Calvin Klein underwear parties and taking in the Rag and Bone show. The band has a hyped Fashion Week club gig with DJ Stretch Armstrong. A trip to India is coming up. Having survived attacks by starlets and fashion-inflated egos–two deadly foes–Bloody Social soldiers on looking for that ever-elusive record deal.

TAGS: 2004, attack, Bloggers, Brooklyn, Bush, drama, Drugs, free, Gorilla Biscuits, India, Joe Biden, Julian Schnabel, Kate Moss, kids, leak, Milk Studios, missing, model, Music, myspace, Nas, New York, New York Times, pennsylvania, Pete Doherty, political, Rehab, skateboard, skateboarder, Sports, Staten Island, The Box, The Strokes, Travel, vegan, Vice, Vice Magazine, war, wasted

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One Response to “Bloody Social Nights: The Ballad of Burke and Biden”


  1. Camilla Says:

    Wow you all certainly have a lot to say. I just love you hair it is beautiful. I wonder if your music will ever come to the USA or maybe you have a cd that I might be able to get ahold of it. Anyway, keep on rockin and stay looking good!

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