Weaving together Cantonese and English into his songwriting, Yatfung is the headlining act at the Horseshoe Tavern on Monday. He’s just moved to Toronto, and although he brings a substantial Chinese fanbase with him, he expressed with vulnerable honesty that he can’t wait to connect with the music community here in Canada. Just after Yatfung’s soundcheck, but before the top of the show, we sit backstage in the Horseshoe’s greenroom for a chat about how he got there.
J: My first question for you today is, how many instruments do you play altogether?
Y: Well, actually, they play me more than I play them. I learned the guitar when I was as tall as it, and I’m not very good at it because I use it for songwriting. Flute, I played. I learned it for half a year, and then just basically learned the notes and I quit. I can play around on the harmonica, just a few notes, here and there.
J: If there is one instrument that would be your go-to when you have a song that’s kicking around in your brain and you just need to get it out. What instrument would you turn to?
Y: I would go for guitar, because it’s been in my blood for so long now. But actually my most favourite instruments would be [the] cello and the piano. So I would just picture everything here with the idea of a cello and piano, the sentiment of it, and the resonance and everything. You know, the cello’s voice is actually the closest to a human voice. I think there’s something about that connection. I just felt it.
J: When you are writing songs, do you write the lyrics or the melody first?
Y: I would say the idea first, actually. It is very hard to have just one formula. So you open yourself up and you just feel something, right? Maybe words, maybe a melody. I think most songwriters would do a melody first, especially in the Chinese music genre, it’s quite hard to write the words first and then the melody. For me, I like having the story first.
J: If you were to describe the genre of your music in your own words, what would you call it?
Y: Yatfung’s World.
J: …and we’re all just living in it.
Y: I was luckily labelled as a ‘City Folk’ guy 20 years ago when I first started out, by the mainland Chinese media. Which I’d never actually set foot in, until I started communicating with the people, with my music. And ‘City Folk,’ what is ‘City Folk,’ right? Folk is folk. But here I am. I’m still doing the same thing for so long.
J: So when people call your music ‘City Folk,’ does that feel like it resonates? What is ‘Yatfung’s World’ if you were to describe it?
Y: Now, I think back, it would be more like folk. Country is like wearing a suit. I do not have that in my blood. I have folk in my blood. Especially now, this time, I was just in the West Village in New York City, and something just came back to me when I was singing there. I listened to those music on the other side of the world many years ago, and those words, those stories, that humanity that the music projected from then-, I’m still living it.
And then country, down the road, would be more like storytelling. Like how to make the most out of your suffering, right? And then you just transform it into something people can feel. I can resonate with country music, from my Chinese background and Chinese music training. It’s always all about suffering, love songs, the ballads, yeah.
J: I love that. So folk is kind of like what your music sounds like, and then country is the way that you tell the story. Of all your musical releases, which song have you recorded that resonates the most with you personally?
Y: It really depends on what I’m going through that period of time, but you know, what touches me most is not what I feel most when I write. It is what people tell me after listening to that song that really keeps me, and it, going. There’s one song I wrote, ‘The Best Is Yet To Come.’ Not the Yatfung standard, but it is a love song. I was just on the train from Switzerland to Germany, and I just broke up with someone, and then I thought, oh my God, no, no, no way, the best is yet to come. And I just wrote it. And then that song came out when the world most needed it.
It was 2003 SARS. It came out in 2002, but the media picked it up, like 2003, and because of that song, a lot of people, it got them through some tough times. Especially the medical teams. Oh, gosh, and it helped them to stay alive. You know, that’s stories like that. It’s inspiring. Yeah, that’s bigger than myself. I always believe that, when you write a song, you just have to let it go. You can keep the royalties, keep a copyright, keep a recording, but the life of a song would just take on itself, yeah, that’s the magic of it.
J: That actually is a perfect segue to my next question, because your music transcends languages, genres and cities. What do you think it is about the music you produce specifically that audiences most identify with?
Y: See, I mentioned about [the] cello and piano, right? I’m a guitar guy, but somehow people love my cello and piano, orchestra-oriented songs. Like one song, ‘One Cigarette’s Time,’ I just used one piano and a cello, and it is still resonating with a lot of people. And they don’t even smoke, but they enjoy it. Transcendent.
J: Do you create music based on how you’re feeling or how it will be received by the public?
Y: The best way to write, to produce music is to do what I feel, because when you are thinking for the audience first, you can never catch up, and it is like trying to control the outcome. But the magic of music is you won’t know until you do it, you put it out, and then that is magical. That’s magic to me, creating something honest. Honesty is the key.
J: Would you say that social media platforms have helped bridge the gap between your music and its intended audience? Sometimes I feel like on social media platforms, there is that thing that artists do, where they’re trying to predict what goes viral.
Y: Yeah. You know, trying to predict the trends and trying to catch on with anything that is going viral, that is a losing game. Don’t ever do it. Well, you can do it, but for how long? To what extent, right? And then you will tire yourself out. That’s fine, but that’s not me. I think on my IG account, I have less than 100 posts. What makes me happy is like sometimes some people text me some random songs of mine, from like, years ago. Like, oh, good. Thanks for keeping them alive!
J: So social media helped those people find those songs.
Y: Yes, though social media is messing up with the timelines now, but in a profound and good way. I would say, like, everything comes anew again, right? Yeah, it’s like you can never predict anything now, so you might as well just be yourself first.
J: How does exposing your personal art to the public feel as an artist? Do you ever feel vulnerable about it- the fact that the public is perceiving these emotions that you went through?
Y: Jess, I’m a songwriter. That’s a very exposed job to begin with. I mean, well, something I would never do is like name dropping or just mentioning, oh, this x, name that, no, no, no. I keep it to myself, but you know, the sentiments I think people can feel when I tell my stories. Honestly, actually, I’m an open book. I have no secrets.
J: But that universal feeling of suffering that you were talking about…
Y: Yeah, you know, I think I can see it in a comedic way now. The best comedians, they just make the most out of it, of the suffering, and at the end of the day, everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has something to bear. Come on, just take it easy. Let’s just laugh at ourselves, and then make the world a better place, right?
J: Sadness certainly is a hot commodity these days. How do you think your music is generally received here in Toronto?
Y: Oh, I don’t know. I’m a newbie here. There’s a big Chinese community in a few neighbourhoods in Toronto, I think it’s a very, very welcoming atmosphere. I feel like, from the first time I came here in 2003, I just keep coming back all these years. And now I even have a little place with my dog. Then that’s how much I love it, and that’s how much I feel welcomed here. So I am ready to connect with other singer/songwriters from different cultural backgrounds. I’m so excited about that, and this is the place to be.
J: Can you describe to me the moment when you decided for certain that you were going to move to Toronto?
Y: I was living in Spain because my digital nomad visa was taking forever, and I was just at that point, I can’t wait forever. I wanted to move to New York first, but I’m a little bit intimidated. Well, I think North America is like, my destiny, yeah? And Toronto seems very welcoming. I love the city, I love the culture- I just, basically, I love this. Yeah, so, it happened in Spain.
J: That kind of lifestyle, where you can just make decisions on the fly and follow your heart in a way, do you feel like that influences or affects the art that you produce during these stages of your life?
Y: It does, yeah. I don’t want to be tied down. Actually, a friend of mine just asked me this question. It just got me thinking- they said, ‘so what are you running away from?’ and then I was just digging deep. Well, I was growing up in a public housing estate in Hong Kong, which is like an inner city setting. Like this room, seven people living here. So I just had to make do.
Somehow, space is something I would always long for. And then when I was able to drive, I just couldn’t get my hands off the wheel, you know, let’s go here. Let’s go there. So what am I running away from? I’m still figuring it out, yeah.
J: So would you say that maybe you’re running away from feeling stuck?
Y: Yeah. That’s a very good way to put it. Yeah, being stuck is like, it’s all up here too, right? [gestures to head] What about you, Jess?
J: What about me? Well, I’m “stuck” at the Horseshoe. I really can’t complain. Growing up, were you encouraged to pursue music?
Y: Nobody understood what music was. All we had were some bling bling stars on TV, which is so far away… how that system worked, nobody knew. I have the most loving parents, because my mom just worried about me not eating enough. My dad, he doesn’t even talk, like most dads in the world. Well, they didn’t say no [to pursuing music], they just didn’t want me to die.
You know, actually, resilience is something I can share with the world. You can make it no matter how much resources you have, because the most valuable resource you can find is within yourself, right? So with this attitude, I travel freely, awkwardly, a lot of hustles and paperwork and visas, but you know, well, I had that 14 years of training. Like, all right, yeah, bring it on. I can take care of it. But now I’m just at this crossroads. Do I bring these burdens onto myself because of habits? Am I ready to receive blessings? I think most people, most city people, we’re all going through something like that. We feel stuck. But every now and then, we want to get away. We long for something else, at different stages of our life, and we will never find out until we step out of our comfort zone. I think stepping out of the comfort zone with a resilient background can benefit quite a lot of people who are going through the same things. I hope my music can be useful to you.
J: Last question for you tonight. Are you familiar with the history of the Horseshoe Tavern?
Y: I read about it. I saw posters. Oh my God, The Rolling Stones, The Police. Bruce Springsteen…
J: What does it feel like to headline this stage?
Y: I feel privileged, honoured, and I still can’t really believe it’s happening in like one to two hours. But why not, right? Why limit ourselves? And especially this time, you know, as a Chinese singer/songwriter, this is a big step. Especially since this is Monday night, whoever shows up. That’s a real connection. And I’m grateful for everything. I’m grateful, and this is a completely new chapter. I’m excited.
J: Is there any last thing that you would love the public to know while you have a microphone in your hand and the chance to say it?
Y: Hi, I’m Yatfung. I do music and this and that, just say hi when you see me, yeah, and I love dogs more than people.
J: What a note to end it on.
This piece used Otter AI for transcription purposes.
