Marc Rebillet livestreams improvised music to millions of fans, often in just his boxer briefs.

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Marc Rebillet is standingin a mostly empty living room with a huge grin on his face.

Headphones are clamped to his ears, and his right hand hovers over a keyboard.

The caller on the line wants a song about getting it on with a big-booty Black girl.

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Rebillet pauses, never losing his smirk.

I could get blasted for this, he says, laughing.

The chat box lights up.

Everyone wants to work that ass for Daddy.

His first taste of virality came in 2007.

The video racked up 4 million views.

He quit college the following year to start a music career.

But he had no plan for how to bring his music to larger audiences.

Ive never been good at strategy, you know?

When he started building a fandom a decade later, it wasnt just through a screen.

People pay to see Rebillet live and in person.

In the pandemic year alone, after national restrictions eased, he performed asold-out drive-in tour.

The results range from EDM to 70s funk to mournful piano solos.

Most of his lyrics come from whatevers in his head that day.

Viewers request songs about just about anything: sobriety, quarantine hookups, longdistance friendships.

It was a half-assed attempt at producing where I wasnt trying to make connections in a serious way.

(He eventually quit trying to produce more formally because he found it boring.)

Just fun, but [it] didnt really do anything, he says.

In 2014, Rebillet returned to Dallas to look after his father, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimers.

(He died in late 2018.)

While there, he ordered a loop machine to mess around with.

In 2016, Rebillet began posting idealogues, videos of him improvising music, online.

Callers would present him with a subject like pooping your pants.

He started doing sets at BrainDead Brewing in Dallas, the first place to pay him to perform.

After about two years of moving between livestreams and bar gigs, Rebillet returned to New York.

Within two months of his return to the city, something happened online, he says.

A booking agent in Brooklyn contacted him, offering representation.

He did over 30 dates in the span of a month and a half.

It was really poorly routed, but they were shows, and they were ticketed shows.

They were like 200-, 250-cap venues, and they sold out within a week and a half.

Rebillets shows continue to sell out rapidly.

During his most recent live performances, he says, the vibes have been unmatched.

Ive never been happier to play.

Part of Rebillets sense of humor onstage is about embodying characters.

When hes improvising, he goes to a place where hes not overthinking every decision he makes.

But when Im doing it, theres not much thought.

I am just trying to do something dope and deliver that in an honest way.

I hope Im not fucking it up.

Thats all I can say, you know?

Rebillet still does everything on the creative side himself.

(One time, he hung up on a caller for not bringing the energy he wanted.)

He claims to spend nine-to-12 hours a day managing his social-media accounts.

I think that is part of the appeal, he explains.

I dont want to hand that off to anyone.

Rebillet admits his aversion to structure is holding him back from achieving certain goals.

He knows hell need help if he wants to create music that lasts.

When he is ready to pursue an album, Rebillet hopes it will be a collaboration with his idol.

These one-off, one-take things, theyre fun, but theyre not super-deep, you know?

Id like to make something deeper.

And its not pop heavy, like Anderson .Paak shit.

Its more Sly & the Family Stone raw-heroin-laced shit.

Rebillet grows more intense as he talks about it.

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

Nothing but a vibe for 30 to 40 minutes.

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