Marc Rebillet’s Sheffield Debut
Alas, the date has arrived! The date I’ve been waiting so eagerly for: Marc Rebillet’s Sheffield debut. The entire process – from spotting the event on Facebook, to getting myself together to actually buy tickets before it sold out, to going to the event – has felt completely and utterly surreal. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined Marc Rebillet in England, let alone Sheffield, and even better; in the hot, sweaty and familiar setting of The Harley.
To me, Marc Rebillet is a creature from a distant land. Not only is he American (French-American, to be precise), but in my mind, he is from Youtube land; a non-physical corner of the internet that floats somewhere above the clouds and only comes into being on my phone or laptop screen. So, to see him in the flesh in all his eccentric, expressive glory is just uncanny: it doesn’t feel real.
The atmosphere has been building and building since about 7pm. Local support acts Akid, Baron Thames, Wheresnorth and Jimmy the Gent all dig deep into their musical collections and have a good stab at getting people warmed up and loosened off after the day’s work, but there’s still a discernible sense of anticipation in the air. Everyone is holding out for the Loop Daddy to come out and do his thang. And that, my friend, he most certainly does.
When he appears, the crowd erupts with excitement. Baron Thames hands the decks over to him with a bottle of Buckfast – a rite of passage for anyone visiting Sheffield for the first time. Rebillet accepts the bottle in what could only described as a ridiculously over-the-top, theatrical manner, takes a customary swig, grimaces, and hands the bottle back to its rightful owner. The crowd is ecstatic. I feel as though I’ve stepped into a strange cult ritual: people are reaching out to him, calling his name, worshipping him like a God. Then he starts playing the keys and the crowd falls silent. Jazzy, sustained tremolo chords build on the suspense that hangs in the air like a raincloud that’s about to burst, before breaking into an intensely catchy and satisfying harmonic riff. People begin to clap and the rhythm comes into its own, spurred on by repeated chants of “Loop Daddy” from the crowd.
Then, in his predictably unpredictable fashion, Marc cuts it off without any warning. Now for the drums. He composes, records, and loops a drum-beat within a matter of seconds, before re-introducing the keyboard riff on top. Et voilà! Just two elements in and I’m already thinking that it’s probably one of the most sonically pleasing tracks I’ve ever heard. He continues to season the track with more percussion, pausing occasionally for soulful vocal exaltations which he alternates with passages of nonsensical rap about love, hotdogs, movies and hot yoga. He’s layered in so many vocal harmonies by the end of the track that it sounds like a disturbingly funky church choir.
His musical wizardry has got me spellbound. Not to mention the wealth of exaggerated facial expressions and violently enthusiastic dance moves he’s got up his sleeve - this really is value for money. Rebillet cultivates the atmosphere loop by loop, each layer contributing to an even tastier concoction of lively percussive drum beats, synthesized basslines and technical squelches. Nothing is rehearsed, everything is improvised, and there are moments when he has to pause to figure things out, making it all the more authentic. His lyrics – an intriguing stream of consciousness that could be described as high quality verbal diarrhea – never fail to mildly shock and seriously amuse. If he’s not feeling something, he scraps it and starts again. He lays his cards on the table, opens himself up and invites you into his wacky, weird and wonderful world. With so much emphasis on perfection these days, it is refreshing to see someone work in this way.
Things get suitably crazy as the night progresses and The Harley reaches unchartered temperature levels. Shirts are removed, and Rebillet spends much of his set clumsily clambering over the decks rather than behind them. Embracing Sheffield warts and all, he diligently downs a can of beer at the crowd’s request. This inevitably invites a rowdy chorus of ‘Yorkshire’ chants which Marc neatly incorporates into his next track; testament to his admirable improvisation skills. Though his delivery is haphazard, The Loop Daddy is completely in control, and it’s clear that a beneath the foolish façade lies a true musical genius.
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But the biggest surprise is yet to come… Squatting atop his desk, Rebillet tries to make small talk with a few fans but it soon becomes apparent that his presence alone has scrambled people’s brains up into whirlwind of silliness and infantile excitement, as no-one is capable of stringing an intelligible sentence together. This leads me to ponder (a) whether Sheffield is illiterate, and (b) does Marc Rebillet have this effect on everyone he comes into contact with? Anyway, that’s beside the point. Marc persuades the crowd (who are squashed in like sardines in a tin) to make a space at the front of the room, politely tells everyone to “shut up” and passes the mic to a member of the audience. A short but heartfelt speech leads smoothly into a proposal, to which she (thankfully) says YES. It’s touching, if not a little cheesy, but hey, any excuse for a celebration. Marc reinforces the euphoria with a gospel choir sample, before casually telling the bride-to-be that he’d been studying her photos for months. Probably one of the unruliest, most unconventional wedding proposals ever; it certainly was an evening to remember.
