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Back in 1980, a local band called The Heats was just about the biggest thing around. And everyone was convinced they were only going to get bigger.

The Heats wrote and performed their own catchy original songs like 鈥淚 Don鈥檛 Like Your Face.鈥� It was pop music at its finest. It was Beatlesque, to be sure, but it had just enough country twang to make it uniquely Northwest.

The band sang tight harmonies in packed local clubs, and sold thousands of copies of the records they produced themselves. They were charismatic showmen with a sense of humor who clearly enjoyed what they were doing on stage, and who truly connected with their audiences. They played a big show in Seattle with The Kinks, and toured around the US with Heart and The Knack.

鈥淭hey were top dog,鈥� said fellow Seattle musician and . 鈥淥pening for them was like opening for a major concert artist, with barricades to keep the fans back at the front of the stage. 鈥淎nd more than any other group, they made it cool for Seattle bands to do original songs.鈥�

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Local music legend Buck Ormsby, who was a member of in the 1950s and 1960s, and who later played with , laid it out plain and simple for The Seattle Times back in June 1979.

鈥淭hey鈥檙e not just some sing-a-song-for-5-years tavern group,鈥� Ormsby told the Times. 鈥淚 hope that within a year, they鈥檒l be on the national level, on the level with any major group in the world.鈥�

But something went wrong along the way, and The Heats never made the big time. They played their final show on New Year鈥檚 Eve 1983 at the old Astor Park at 4th Avenue and Lenora in the shadow of the Monorail tracks.

The Band

Ken Deans was The Heats鈥� original drummer. He鈥檚 an articulate unofficial spokesman and historian for the band, though he probably wouldn鈥檛 like to be called that. It鈥檚 clear that he鈥檚 thought a lot about what the band meant, and about why it鈥檚 still worth remembering and trying to understand.

鈥淲e [weren鈥檛] punk enough for the punk crowd, and we [weren鈥檛] pop enough for the Top 40 crowd,鈥� Deans said, explaining why he believes the band never got that big label recording contract.

Along with Deans, the original Heats were Steve Pearson and Don Short on vocals and guitar, with Keith Lilly on bass. Pearson and Short had met around 1975, Lilly and Deans had gone to school together in Kenmore since Kindergarten. Pearson, Deans and Lilly were all Inglemoor High School grads; Short is from Mercer Island.

Deans says that they began jamming together around Thanksgiving 1978, playing covers of songs they liked by artists such as The Cars and Tom Petty, and British artists that Short had grown enamored of while living briefly in London. But Deans says that from the very first practice session, the band also worked on their own songs.

The band鈥檚 first gig, Deans says, was at a high school dance on the Olympic Peninsula. They were known as The Heaters then (another band beat them to trademarking the name and the Northwest Heaters later shortened their name to The Heats). At that tiny high school, The Heaters played those cover songs they鈥檇 been practicing, and an appreciative teenage crowd danced along.

鈥淭hen we played like 10 of our own songs and people didn’t know the difference,鈥� Deans said. 鈥淲e all just looked at each other, and go, 鈥榌Forget] this, we’re gonna do our own songs. I think this is gonna work.鈥欌��

Over the next several months, the band played more and more gigs at local clubs including the Shire in West Seattle, the Hall of Fame in the University District and the Old Mill in Bothell.

Making it big

Fame came fast for The Heaters. In fact, literally overnight. 鈥淲e didn’t know how to take it,鈥� Deans said.

It was in May 1979 that the band made their first big splash in the local media, thanks to Seattle Times columnist Erik Lacitis. The band sat for an interview with Lacitis, and for a photo session at the Shire with noted Times鈥� photographer Greg Gilbert.

Later that week, Deans and Lilly were driving home from a Friday night gig and pulled off at a 7-11 to get an early copy of the Saturday newspaper to see what Lacitis had written about them. Deans says what happened next was a 鈥渓ight switch moment.鈥�

鈥淚 looked through the entertainment section, and there’s nothing,鈥� Deans said, assuming the story had been cut from that edition of the paper. Bu then Lilly remembered that Lacitis wasn鈥檛 an entertainment writer, so Deans flipped to the front of the local section.

鈥淚 didn’t know what to do. Above the fold was a half-page picture of us, and below the fold was the article, and it was like, 鈥極h my God,鈥欌�� Deans said.

Lacitis lavished the band with praise. 鈥淚t would be easy for local pop music fans to never hear of The Heaters, which is too bad,鈥� he wrote in the first line of the story, 鈥渂ecause they鈥檝e got to be the best rock band in the Northwest.鈥�

Go and see The Heaters, Lacitis continued, and 鈥淸y]ou鈥檒l see a band that plays great music that you can hum and dance to. You鈥檒l see four musicians who have fun on stage, jumping up and down, doing leg splits, running with their guitars onto the dance floor. You鈥檒l see a group not yet jaded by too many compromises.鈥�

Thanks to that over-the-top publicity, word got out that Saturday. Where only 15 people had watched Friday night鈥檚 show, Saturday night was packed with a line down the street.

In an email, Lacitis recalled why he wrote that first column, and why he continued to write about The Heats so glowingly throughout their short career.

鈥淸They] were a local power pop band that were simply joyful to hear and watch. They were rock ‘n’ roll at its happiest. They had that charisma that grabs audiences. You had to be at their shows to experience it,鈥� Lacitis wrote. 鈥淭heir melodies reminded me of the early Beatles.鈥�

Throughout 1979 and 1980, the accolades and the big gigs piled up. The band released a single produced by Buck Ormsby, with on one side and 鈥淥rdinary Girls鈥� on the other. It sold 15,000 copies. Next came an LP called that was produced by Heart guitarist and sold 12,000 copies.

Manager Jon Kertzer

Radio guy, record promoter and musician (and future ethnomusicologist) became The Heats鈥� manager in 1979.

鈥淭here was this really great rapport they had with the audience. I really liked the artists they were covering, and when I heard their originals it was great,鈥� Kertzer said. 鈥淪o I ended up going to work with them with Ken Kinnear, who managed Heart.鈥�

鈥淚 went on the road with them on the tours, and I wore lots of hats,鈥� Kertzer said. 鈥淚 was the tour manager, I did the lights and merchandise, and ended doing a little bit of everything.鈥�

Kertzer isn鈥檛 sure why the band, which had so many positive things going for it, never hit the bigtime.

鈥淭hat’s the $64,000 question,鈥� Kertzer said. 鈥淚 mean, I worked really hard to try to make that happen. That was my job as manager to try and get them national attention and we did have several national tours. When we went to places like New York, I would take their music around to all the record labels, and talk to them about getting signed. And they came pretty close,鈥� Kertzer said.

鈥淥ur timing was a bit off,鈥� he continued. 鈥淏y the time we were talking seriously to labels, it was just a little late, and the rage for power pop sound had passed.鈥�

After all the hype around The Heat鈥檚 鈥渘ext big thing鈥� status, failure to sign with a label began to take its toll on the band.

鈥淲e started not believing in ourselves,鈥� Ken Deans said. 鈥淎nd it was just like, get signed and we don’t?鈥� And we did a short kind of co-headline thing with and their record took off, and it was just like, 鈥榊ou know, we’re not the red-leather jumpsuit guys, you know we just want to play.鈥欌��

Breaking up

Relationships in the band became strained. Bassist Keith Lilly left, and was replaced by Wayne Clack. Then, Ken Deans left, too. Rick Bourgoin took over on drums.

鈥淸Leaving felt] really bad. It was one of those experiences in life where you had just spent the last three years of your life pouring your blood and guts out on the floor with these guys, and then you weren’t,鈥� Deans said.

The years seemed to have softened any hard feelings, however, and Deans is philosophical.

鈥淭hat was the hardest point in my life because it was like, 鈥榃ow, I got to be part of this experience that I know was amazing, but we couldn’t quite grasp the brass ring,鈥欌�� Deans said.

Deans went on to a long career in management and production in the music industry, and has lived in Los Angeles for many years.

Heats records have been out of print in vinyl, but have been reissued on CD by foreign labels. Thanks to and YouTube, The Heats鈥� music has never been easier to find, and it still holds up.

Looking back

鈥淚t’s withstood the test of time as far as pop music goes,鈥� said Kertzer of the band鈥檚 studio recordings.

Ken Deans makes a 鈥済uilty confession鈥� that he still listens to the band鈥檚 live recordings, made right off the mixing board at places like the old Showbox Theatre.

鈥淚 gotta be honest with you, I’m pretty proud of [those tapes],鈥� he said, laughing.

鈥淭hey hold up,鈥� said Erik Lacitis, via email, of The Heats鈥� songs. 鈥淚’d put some of them right up there with 鈥業 Wanna Hold Your Hand.鈥� I wish they had had better recording, because the bass from their live stuff isn’t there in the recording. But it still comes through.鈥�

The last column about The Heats that Lacitis wrote was in late December 1983, just days before the band鈥檚 final show. Don Short had told the others a month or so earlier that he didn鈥檛 want to continue. Ironically, the duration element of Buck Ormsby鈥檚 鈥渟ome sing-a-song-for-5-years tavern group鈥� ended up being almost eerily prophetic.

鈥淪o long, Heats. Has it really been five years?鈥� Lacitis wrote in that final column. 鈥淭hose days of innocence sure seem a long time ago.鈥�

If there鈥檚 a direct connection between 鈥榯hose days of innocence鈥� and the explosion of Seattle less than a decade later as a global force in music, it鈥檚 most evident in the people who went to the shows, bought the records and who then went on to create the next generation of Northwest bands.

At the Pike Place Market Centennial Concert in 2007, and a band of local all-stars covered for a live Seattle Channel broadcast.

Before launching into the opening riff, Dederer told the crowd, 鈥淥kay, anybody over 40, this song was a big hit, and I’m just gonna give it a little introduction, 鈥榗ause this was maybe the first or second song I ever learned off a record, on the guitar. The Heaters, the Heats, they were the hot stuff in 1979, 1980.鈥�

Those 鈥渉ot stuff鈥� years are now almost four decades ago. But Ken Deans is old enough and wise enough to appreciate his time with The Heats, and he鈥檚 grateful that the band has a legacy, and that it remains influential.

He keeps in touch (with varying frequency) with the other guys, some of who still play music. To hear Deans tell it, they can look back together on the ups and downs they shared on the way to the not-quite-big-time, just like veterans of any hard-fought battle.

鈥淲e were really lucky and really fortunate, and it’s something that we all get to hold onto,鈥� Deans said. 鈥淲e kind of all have this Purple Heart that we all get to keep, and no one can ever take that away from us.鈥�