Yufu Taipei 2025.11.27

The moment you step into Billboard Taipei, your eyes are met with a constellation of stage adornments—potted greenery, hanging lamps, and that unmistakable UD-990 microphone, manufactured in Japan in the 1980s. The entire scene evokes the aesthetic of a 1970s American department-store furniture catalog. Powered by the post–baby boom economic rise, the ’60s and ’70s in the United States became an era of explosive creativity across art, music, and cultural thought.

Responding to that very era’s calling, Yufu and his band envelop the space in a visual and atmospheric language shaped by those decades. It feels as if the audience has been invited into a carefully orchestrated time travel experience—transported straight back to the ’70s. And in this space, you are meant to be taken care of, thoroughly and tenderly, just as the era’s music once held its listeners.

A cowboy hat, a velvet shirt, flared trousers, leather shoes—
Yufu and his band step onto the stage with an unhurried grace. The small candle lights on the tables cast a soft glow across their profiles, a hazy, suggestive shimmer cutting through the darkness. Fans gathered from every corner of the room finally meet the moment they’ve been waiting for.

Then it happens: music that slips past language, music that feels unstuck from time itself.
Anyone who knows Yufu understands that he is, in every sense, a purist—a craftsman devoted to the real thing.

And as listeners, we’re about to be ushered into a grand escape, a brief but necessary departure from the realities of 2025.

The moment the show kicks off, the crowd erupts in thunderous cheers. Yufu steps on his wah-wah pedal and sweeps through his chords, with the band locking in instantly as they launch into “Are You Elevated?”, the opening track from his new album Heal Me Good. Compared to the studio version, the live arrangement feels noticeably reimagined, crafted in a way that lets Yufu guide the audience deeper into his sonic universe.
The music shifts between tight, infectious grooves and hazy psychedelia. “3rd Dose Of Your Mystic Drug,” a mid-tempo tune tinted with Motown warmth, sees keyboardist Jeremy weaving sitar-like textures into his playing, switching to a vintage organ when needed—serving almost like a “keeper of the vibe.”
Unlike the dance-leaning energy of the first two songs, the performance now slips into a more surreal, introspective realm. Layers of sound build and build, only to suddenly shift in tempo—like tumbling down a ravine, only to discover a vast, newly opened world on the other side.

Drummer Tootle and bassist/vocalist Rhug play an essential role in the spaces between the songs. Yufu and his band handle transitions with remarkable finesse, and the rhythm section often has to navigate when to step forward and when to pull back. Whether it’s maintaining a subtle groove under Yufu’s post-song banter or managing the dynamics mid-performance so other members can interact with the crowd and show their personality, they operate with an understated but crucial musical intelligence.

Newly added percussionist Carlos also reveals flashes of his impressive precision throughout the set. Trained in jazz and Afro-Cuban traditions, he’s not the type of player who relies solely on technique while neglecting context—quite the opposite. After the show, he mentioned, “Yufu is very particular about staying true to the musical context of that era, so every instrument used for each song is intentionally chosen and designed.”

〈Warm Fuzz〉, one of Yufu’s earlier compositions predating Heal Me Good, stands out with its unmistakable hook. The song kicks off with a burst of sticky, overdriven fuzz guitar—a tone so explosive it instantly commands the room. Then comes 〈Tomorrow〉, led by Tootle’s crisp, articulate drumming. It’s one of the tightest and most hard-hitting tracks of the first half, carrying the momentum forward and giving the night a sense of official lift-off. The audience energy spikes accordingly.

In 〈I Got A Taste Of My Own Medicine〉, the line
"The love and hate it’s just a losing game, I know I made a huge mistake"
lands with even greater weight in the midst of Taipei’s nightlife—where couples cross paths, stories unfold, and emotions simmer beneath neon lights. Performed in this urban core, the song takes on a deeper resonance, as though it were mirroring the intimate contradictions that fill the city after dark.

Their performance carried an effortless fluidity—the kind that only comes from countless hours onstage, from festivals to corporate gigs. Regardless of who stands in front of them, the ability to communicate one’s artistic spirit with clarity is essential to any true musician, and Yufu and his band demonstrated exactly that.

With a relaxed yet polished, stylish tone, Yufu introduced each band member as if his words were simply another extension of the music itself. “Every one of our shows is a little different,” he said. “If you like what you’re hearing tonight, come check out our other sets—we switch things up every time!” Moments later, the band dove into a series of improvisations, responding to one another with a balance of freedom and structure that pushed the room to its next elevation point.

For the encore, they delivered 〈Never Can I Say Goodbye〉—yes, the Jackson 5 classic (the very group that launched Michael Jackson). Even the length of the audience’s encore call was clean and concise, matching the tight, confident flow that defined the entire night.

Musically, Yufu maneuvers through a wide spectrum of elements with remarkable command. Though Heal Me Good marks his official debut album this year, it is far from the first time he’s demonstrated to the world that Taiwan is capable of producing soul music with true depth and conviction. Well-versed in soul, psychedelia, funk, disco, and jazz, Yufu has long been involved in—and often at the helm of—various musical projects, each one further refining the artistic vocabulary that now defines his sound.

It’s easy for some to dismiss Yufu as simply an artist who crafts a laid-back groove. But the truth runs far deeper. The genres he draws from—soul, psychedelia, funk, disco, jazz—were born in the turbulence of the ’60s and ’70s, an era defined by spiritual searching and the pursuit of social justice. It was a time when the banner of peace coexisted with wars and armed revolutions, when music served not only as emotional balm but also as a vehicle for enlightenment, self-expression, racial inclusion, and even a fascination with the “exotic” and the mystical.

It was an age when the boundaries of consciousness were reconsidered, and many of the progressive ideas shaping modern culture first took root—a genuine golden era of awakening. For an artist who loves that period to attempt to recreate its landscape in the year 2025 is both profoundly rare and profoundly lonely. And perhaps that is why the resonance between Yufu and his audience feels especially precious—because it bridges time, spirit, and intention in a way few artists today even attempt.