Montrealer Ritchie Henman reflects on musical journey with ‘April Wine’ in new book

It’s been quite the journey for former April Wine drummer Ritchie Henman.

Through his biography, High Adventure: Tales of Canadian Rock & Roll Survival, the Montrealer is hoping to share the story of his musical journey — full of ups and downs — and how it brought him here today.

Henman says that it was inspired partly by the desire to get everything written down because so much has happened in his life.

“For a little kid from Chester Basin, a tiny little village—Chester Basin, Nova Scotia—to have experienced all these things, all these adventures with bands, recording, touring, and meeting prominent people in the industry. And I thought, ‘I’d better write it all down because if I don’t, the day will come and I’ll forget it all,’” said Henman.

The book was initially for him; the notion of getting it printed came much later. The book was released last April.

Henman hopes readers will take away connection to shared experiences. He set up an email address so that people who read the book can offer feedback.

“The book was right on target. Everybody writes me and tells me that, yes, I experienced some of that. I had a band, and we did gigs, and we thought, ‘Well, wouldn’t it be nice if we recorded?’ Some of them did, and some of them didn’t. Some of them were happy just to be able to go out and play.

“Those shared experiences of playing in that—those were magic days from the ’60s, really late ’50s through the ’80s, when a bunch of young guys could start a band and start out playing at your high school and maybe move on from there to bigger and better things. And there were so many of us in those days. And those are the people who are giving me the feedback on the book.

“I’m hoping they’ll enjoy the adventure. I’m hoping they’ll enjoy some of the humorous things that happened because it was a lot of them. A little bit of tragedy. And if you ever wondered what goes on behind the scenes or what went on behind the scenes back in the ’70s in that magic era of classic rock, especially classic Canadian rock and roll… I like to think I’ve covered it in there — all the nuances, trying to get a recording, the actual art of recording, touring, the weird things that happen that you don’t see.”

Growing up in Nova Scotia

Henman recalls his days in Nova Scotia. He said he doesn’t think growing up in a small village had any influence on him deciding what he wanted to do with his future, other than the day he heard a song on the radio that changed they way he viewed music and gave him that pull.

“When I heard Buddy Holly for the first time singing ‘Peggy Sue’ and all the little bells and whistles went off, my brother and I, and we just stopped. We were playing in our room. We just stopped. ‘What is that? I need more of that. I have to get it. I have to go. I have to follow that’. It was like a messiah, you know, ‘I’ve got to follow. What is that sound?,’ he said.

“And of course ‘Peggy Sue’ and then on through the Beatles and the whole ’60s British evolution.

“A lot of musicians will tell you that once you get started on it, pick up an instrument start playing, it’s more powerful than any drug. It becomes your prime focus from then on.”

Henman started on guitar, but the first time he saw a band play live, something stood out to him.

“The drummer had these gold sparkle drums. Well, guitars were all brown or maybe dark cherry red. It was a good Gibson. But I saw those gold sparkle drums and I said, wow. You know, it brings out the kid in you. And I decided, OK, that’s what. Then I switched to drums and I got a set of blue sparkle drums first. Later, silver sparkle. And you know, it’s kind of silly to say, but it is part of the inspiration — the instrument itself.”

In 1962, Henman and his brother David formed a band. They had the opportunity to play live with a cover band and perform for schools and in church basements.

They were only playing cover material for teenage audiences, and the appeal of doing that soon started to wear off.

“You start to play original music, and they say, ‘No, no, you got to play the song. You got to play what’s on the radio.’ That becomes limiting after a while because your creativity is now in full bloom. And so, there came the decision: OK, if we’re going to be in an all-original band, we’re going to have to get out of town and go somewhere where you can do that.”

April Wine

In late 1969, they formed April Wine. The band consisted of Henman, his brother David, their cousin Jimmy Clench and their childhood friend Myles Goodwyn.

They took a chance on themselves and moved to Montreal in April 1970, where they later received a recording contract.

“We took a chance and just came here and knocked on doors. And our timing was perfect,” Ritchie Henman said. “We were right in sync with that new CRTC ruling that mandated 30 per cent content on Canadian radio. Therefore, when we got here and knocked on doors, the doors opened because they were looking for bands doing original material. How lucky is that?”

They spent a lot of their time knocking on doors, and playing their demos for people, and listening to their opinions and receiving feedback. In those days, they wanted to hear a single. Henman says Goodwyn wrote their first single “Fast Train”.

“I even remember the night that he brought that to practice. We had a band house in St. Hubert on the South Shore. Miles wrote that one day, brought it down to practice that night. And as soon as we heard the first couple of chords, we said, ‘Okay, we’ve got a single, we’re on the way,'” Henman recounted.

“The good folks at Donald K. Donald, they were all new at the time. We were new at the time. Everybody that was involved in our little group was new at it, but full of ideas and full of enthusiasm.”

Henman said it evolved from there, song by song, album by album, and show by show.

“Every time we played, we were better than the last time. Every song that was written was better than the last one. And so, yeah, we just moved along on inspiration.

“Somebody once said success is 10 per cent inspiration and 90 per cent perspiration. And we had no end of both. So we made it onto the charts and onto radio nationwide.”

Henman told CityNews the inspiration behind naming the band “April Wine”.

“My brother just picked those two words out of there. He was born in April, but that didn’t have a lot to do with it. He just thought, ‘Here’s two words that sound nice together. It’s a sweet sound.’ And we thought it doesn’t tie you to a specific style. So that’s why we went with that name. In retrospect, we might have chosen something that perhaps did outline a style, as opposed to leaving it kind of vague. But that’s where our heads were at the time.”

‘Maybe I’d like to try something else‘

In 1973, Henman and his brother decided to leave the band to pursue other adventures.

“The same as back in the ’60s when you’re in a cover band. After a while, you’re doing it over and over again, and you’re out there playing every night, playing those same songs over and over again. There does come a point where you say, ‘You know what, maybe I’d like to try something else.’ Not everybody in the band felt that way.”

Henman also shared something that he says people may not know — though it’s included in the new book.

“At the end of 1973, we had a meeting. We took the summer off because we were burned out by then. We had been on the road for just a little short of four years, non-stop—playing, recording, practicing, writing, driving from gig to gig. And we were all burned out by the middle of ’73. So we took the summer off, got back together for a meeting in September downtown, and everybody announced that they were quitting the band all at the same time. It was kind of funny, and we thought it was funny. After that, we had a great couple of hours laughing about it and talking about the great times we had and what we were each going to do next. We weren’t sure, but we all had ideas and rough outlines. So we parted the best of friends and remained that way.”

Although some parted ways, they still showed support for each other.

“Those of us who left the band became fans of the new band that kept Miles and Jimmy Clench, who was our second bass player. The two of them kept the name and built it into an empire eventually, over a period of years. And we, the rest of us, remained big fans of the band. We’d go to the recording sessions and attend their shows.”

Tour memories

The journey was full of memorable moments, many that Henman will never forget.

“We don’t all get into something like that only for the reason of becoming a superstar and being on every magazine and every time you turn on the TV. It has more to do with the music. For us, it’s the art itself, and whatever level we work at is what it is. We don’t, just because it’s not number one worldwide, let that discourage us from continuing with the inspiration. We’re just guys who want to play and entertain people, is what it comes down to.

“It was a band that was set up to establish us as individuals and then whatever happened happened. So it all worked out to everybody’s advantage.

“We were happy with what we did, and we all had great adventures musically after that. I had some great recording bands for the rest of the ’70s through 1980. So I got everything I wanted out of the industry.”

One of Henman’s fond memories is when the band played its second to last show before they broke up.

“Having been inspired by the Beatles back in the ’60s and seeing all that mayhem with the girls screaming and chasing them, you sort of thought, ‘Boy, I’d like to do that.’ Well, we got to do that one night. Actually, a couple of times in Toronto, but particularly that one night at Ontario Place, the theatre in the round. And when we finished our show, they mobbed us just like they mobbed the Beatles.

“And you know what? It’s kind of scary because they want something they can take home. So they’re trying to, if you’ve got a watch, they’re trying to take it. They’re trying to tear your clothes and take a piece of you. They’re pulling at your hair, trying to take my glasses, anything to take as a souvenir. And we weren’t prepared for it. We didn’t have the security to handle it. We only had two guys to get us from the stage to the backstage area. So it got pretty scary, but we survived. You know, torn clothes and pulled hair.

“The next day, you know, you thought, ‘Boy, that was pretty cool. But I wouldn’t want to do it all the time.'”

One of his favourite souvenirs is a 7UP can.

“When it comes to souvenirs of my days in rock and roll, the family favourite—and anybody who comes in to look at the stuff—eventually they decide that 7UP can. That is just incredible. They had a contest in 1972, 7UP, called Rock Caps, and you had to collect all the faces of each band,” Henman said.

“Of course, for April Wine, you had to collect me, Miles, David, and Jimmy Clench. But they picked a couple of pictures to put on the outside of the can. So, for the summer of ’72, I had my face on the outside of every 7UP can in the country.

“And there are millions of them out there.”

Although the journey is over, the memories will remain and the music lives on.

“Here we are, you know, 54 years later, a successful recording career behind us, millions of records sold, and, gosh, we had the time of our life,” Henman expressed.