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It wasn’t long ago that the man born Sir Robert Bryson Hall II and known as Bobby to friends would walk into record-label offices and bars alike and be classified as what he calls a “nobody.” “I hate that fucking word,” he says. Now he’s treated differently because he wears a gold Rolex. (Despite his aristocratic name, he grew up poor.) “That’s the thing about the world,” he says. “They want to define who you are and what you are.” He resents the memory of being a “nobody” but doesn’t want his watch to make you think he’s a somebody.