A concert can amuse, even impress, but only rarely does it transform the air itself, where melody becomes emotion and sound turns into feeling. Gareth.T’s Prince of Sadness Tour at Shepherd’s Bush Empire belonged firmly to the latter category.
The evening began in almost complete darkness; then came Gareth.T, stepping into the dark blue lights with a violin in hand. No pompadous explosion, no artificial build-up, just a solitary figure, his band cloaked in shadow behind him, and the first notes of Yumeji’s Theme wafting through the venue. It was in many ways cinematic and arresting; in those opening minutes, I realised that the show was going to be an emotional autopsy: mainly slow and devastatingly beautiful.
The stage design reflected that exact duality. There was control in everything: the smoke curling upward like early-morning mist, and the glacial blue lights cutting through the haze. When the red and gold tones flooded the stage during 保留吧悲傷, everything felt like mood alchemy. Gareth.T, wrapped in a long black coat and boots that caught the dim light, looked like a poet who had stepped out of a Wong Kar-wai frame – all melancholy and grace. His voice, smooth, controlled, and rich with tone. No matter the language, Gareth.T’s delivery felt sincere; you could hear the emotion in his tone, in the way he shaped every word and phrase.

A live band supported him throughout, yet it was never overwhelming. The arrangements were tasteful, allowing the audience to really immerse themselves in music. The keyboards and the guitar wept quietly under his melodies. And then there was the violin – that aching, noble instrument that Gareth.T used like an emotional thread through the show.
In the first act, steeped in sorrowful blues and jazz tempos, I felt like I was going on a procession through heartbreak’s many shades. Songs like 去北極忘記你 carried the icy loneliness the title suggested, while his performance of Sita Chan’s 墓邊 was suffused with sorrow, illuminated by soft golden light; grief made tangible. The haze, the strings, the careful pacing, everything came together to feel almost sacred.
And then came Vivaldi!
It takes a particular kind of confidence to cover The Four Seasons – Concerto No.4 in F minor, but Gareth.T approached it with fearless elegance. Mind you, the piece demands rapid string crossings, precise bowing, and agile fingerwork. The L’inverno concerto has sharp staccatos, fast scales, and double stops (playing two notes at once), but the singer delivered.
His violin brought that beautiful classical formality, with contemporary feeling, connecting centuries in three and a half minutes. It was tense yet fearful and led into 孤單 (Lonely); with the R&B rhythm and his wonderful vocals, Gareth.T’s sadness felt beautifully present..

Gareth.T’s voice has a rare quality that makes you feel with him, rather than just admire him. You don’t listen to him and think, “What a singer!” You think, “I’ve felt that too”. He has mastered that intangible art of resonance.
遇上你之前的我 followed. Gareth.T sang with a slow and confessional intensity. Sitting in a throne, yes literal throne, he delivered every word gracefully. Even if you didn’t understand the language, the emotion was clear and unmistakable.
The third part of the show was softer. Let Me Know felt like a smooth, late-night jazz song. Gareth.T took a moment to introduce his band, showing respect for everyone who helps make the music happen. Even in the calmer part of the show, Gareth.T kept things emotionally rich. NAVY and 國際孤獨等級 made the atmosphere even more thoughtful, while 緊急聯絡人, with its haunting keyboard intro, brought out raw and real feelings. The audience sang with him, turning the moment into something that felt more like communal healing at the therapist’s office than a concert.
用背脊唱情歌 played, and with it, an energy changed so visceral it bordered on spiritual. Backed by the band, Gareth.T unleashed one of the night’s most powerful vocal moments. His range stretched effortlessly, climbing through the bridge, booming through the venue like a cry from somewhere beneath the ribs.
When he returned for the encore, he was transformed. Gone was the black melancholy of the first half. Now, in a brighter furry coat, Gareth.T brought renewal, as though the colours themselves carried meaning. Perhaps they did. His final songs, boyfriend material, 你都不明白自己有多好, and 顏色, spoke the theme of healing – but again, this is purely my own understanding of his music.

你都不明白自己有多好, in particular, was shining. Its message – that one’s worth doesn’t depend on external validation – was powerful. The song’s lyrics reminded me that I am enough, that self-recognition is the first act of love. As he sang lines about blooming like a “strange flower,” fans were visibly emotional. And that’s Gareth.T’s gift; he knows how to perform for people and with people.
By the time he closed with 勸勸浪漫超邊緣, the audience was on their feet across all three floors. I don’t have enough adjectives to describe how wonderful his show was. At such a young age, Gareth.T has already achieved so much, even while facing heartbreak and a lack of confidence. That alone shows that when you pour your own emotions into doing what you love – in his case, songwriting – you can achieve extraordinary things. And I can see that this is just the beginning for him.
Walking out into the cool London air, I thought about the irony of his monicker, Prince of Sadness. Because what Gareth.T brings to the stage is not only sorrow, but also empathy. His music redeems and makes you feel less alone in your own struggles.
To witness Gareth.T live is to experience the spectrum of emotion. He brings the tenderness of a poet and the courage of someone who dares to feel deeply in a world that too often rewards indifference. I really want to say that his art breathes, it hurts, but it also heals. And on that October night in Shepherd’s Bush, sadness never sounded so beautiful.
Rating:
Written by Maggie Gogler
Featured image © Narine Chalabi for View of the Arts
*Big thank you to Emanation Global Entertainment, Chessman UK, and Warner Music Hong Kong for having us.
View of the Arts is an online publication dedicated to films, music, and the arts, with a strong focus on the Asian entertainment industry. With rich content already available to our readers, we aim to expand our reach and grow alongside our audience by delving deeper into emerging platforms such as K-pop and Asian music more broadly. At the same time, we remain committed to exploring the vibrant and ever-evolving global landscape of film, music, and the arts, celebrating the immense talent and creativity that define these industries worldwide.
