R. KELLY – "Ignition (Remix)"

I’d never been an R Kelly fan prior to this anyway, and I was one of said people who wanted nothing to do with this, previous or subsequent releases of his from the off when I’d heard what he did back in 2003. That it didn’t seem to bother the record buying public back then and that they’ve only realised this in the last couple of years is something I still find very disturbing indeed. Regardless, it was a record I didn’t care for back then either, so I refuse to give a mark on this occasion.

So in the absence of discussing this, I instead will concentrate on the four records that got locked behind it at #2.

Week one: ‘Favourite Things’ by Big Brovaz, a sort of ‘My First Fisher Price Rap’ song centred around a sample from The Sound of Music, except ‘Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens’ are substituted here for ‘Gucci dresses and drop top Kompressors’ and a hell of a lot of bling. I’d argue that this and a memorable advert for Virgin Mobile starring Busta Rhymes (himself enjoying a huge hit with Mariah Carey around this time) is what bought ‘bling’ into common parlance among my age group because I don’t think it was used that frequently before then. I suspect its lyrical content probably wouldn’t have read well with the same audience five years later with the economic developments that occurred, mind. 4 for that one.

Week two: ‘No Good Advice’ by Girls Aloud. And so, after the four week majesty of the Christmas number one debut, the angsty, aggressive silver Spandex and tin foil clad follow up, and middle finger to their critics who said they wouldn’t last. Miranda Cooper had actually written the bulk of this with Brian Higgins at Xenomania two years previously after the Moonbaby project was aborted by London Records. Kimberley Walsh has recounted in her subsequent autobiography that this caused a bit of initial friction between them and Brian, in so far as they weren’t comfortable with how he worked with recording; namely, learning and recording lyrics for as many as 18 different parts of choruses, bridges, middle 8s etc, and piecing together the end result at the very end.

Her and Cheryl (who else?) were the nominated people to tell him ‘It’s not our sound’ and he basically gave them a bollocking and a 30 minute ultimatum as to decide whether or not to work with him further. Needless to say that passed without event, and you have the end result you hear today. Indebted to both Blondie and ‘My Sharona’, it was also the first pop song I’d ever heard the word ‘anaethetise’ being used in. And I subsequently discovered in the years that followed that Aqua’s Lene Nystrom – herself recording a solo album with Xenomania which GA would repurpose tracks from for their albums – co-wrote this one also. What more could you ask for really? 9 for that one.

Week three: ‘Rock Your Body’ by Justin Timberlake. And so the triumvirate of JT runner ups from ‘Justified’ concludes with a slice of disco funk shamelessly lifted from ‘Off the Wall’ era Michael Jackson. Arguably, cancellation culture that you discuss above Tom has also rendered this one problematic, albeit not anywhere near to the same scale, thanks to this being the song Justin performed with Janet Jackson at the 2004 Super Bowl when ‘Nipple-gate’ happened, which effectively wrote off her career at the hands of TV and industry executives using her as a scapegoat for censorship, whilst he appeared to get away with his part in it scot free. Even taking that aside, it’s the weakest of his first three solo hits with hindsight for me, so 6 for that one.

Week four: the remaining sextet of S Club bowed out with ‘Say Goodbye / Love Ain’t Gonna Wait For You’, essentially reduxes of ‘Never Had A Dream Come True’ and ‘Don’t Stop Movin’ but none the worse for all that. It’s month long of promotion following the Easter Monday announcement of their split on stage at their ‘S Club United’ tour with the Juniors – now being rebranded to S Club 8 – was marked with both promotional ‘farewell’ hankies sent out to the media, and a video for the former where they pack up a flat share and reminisce over their old videos and photoshoots surrounded by boxes that’s still one of that era’s best ‘We’re splitting up, let’s have a little cry about what’s gone’ moments. As a fan of theirs, it had been apparent since the way ‘Alive’ performed that things were heading that way, but that didn’t make it easier to accept when it was announced. But this definitely felt like an era of music I’d grown up loving was over. 7 for this one.

I don’t think I have much to add to what everyone else has said: it’s a song I loved, it’s a song I don’t want to listen to anymore, and the particularly problematic thing about the R. Kelly story is that the bad stuff didn’t come out long after he became famous (at least on this side of the Atlantic) – it was in the public domain almost from the start, and certainly by the time of Ignition (Remix). It’s a very different case from Michael Jackson, but while MJ’s ‘otherworldliness’ was used by his defenders, Kelly used his eccentricity (the whole Trapped In The Closet business) – almost as if to say, ‘I’m too weird to be judged by normal standards.’
I hate the ‘what were we thinking?’ line – it’s pretending to accept responsibility now but giving your supposedly less-enlightened past self a pass – but, yeah, what the hell were we thinking?

The NME was IMO pretty awful in this era, but I still bought it occasionally and to their credit their review for this wasn’t cutting Robert any slack, if admittedly mostly through the style of the time by engaging in sniggering bad taste humour (“no mention if he prefers his ignition on older or younger models” etc.). They concluded that it was a standard R Kelly track (which I dare say was wrong) and predicted that in the current circumstances the public wouldn’t have much enthusiasm for it (which definitely turned out to be wrong).

I hadn’t actually heard it at the time I read the review. When I did I can’t pretend it wasn’t one of the few #1s of the era I loved, and even as it slid down the charts it managed to find further ways to endear itself to me when it became the big hit of our prom.

I recorded the guest comments for my friend’s wedding back in February last year. At one point this played and I commented that this might be the last year R Kelly would be heard in public. It’s looking likely.

I was never a fan of R Kelly, rock snobbery stopped me in his first flush and by the time I might have appreciated his music, the sex tape was common knowledge so I basically dodged a bullet on that one.

This is updated and adapted from Patreon comments…

I was chatting about great music made by terrible people with a mate recently. He made the point that there’s lots of great music around, it’s not, for example, MJ or nothing. I tend to take that line. I don’t consider, say, Michael Jackson or The Smiths off limits but I can’t imagine ever choosing to listen to them over someone who doesn’t come with so much baggage.

What bothers me about the cancel culture is this: is it not a superficially woke way of sweeping this stuff under the carpet? The tabloid version of the abuser as monster. We don’t want to consider the music of abusers because we don’t want to confront the humanity of abusers: that these awful things were done by people like us, by people we looked up to so we either deny the acts or deny the art. I’m not saying I’ve got any better suggestions it just feels like a cop-out.

Someone called Daniel Riefferscheid replies: I think it’s pretty legit for people not to want to contemplate the essential monstrosity of humanity when they’re listening to a fun Summer jam tho. So it’s cancellation or compartimentalization.

Yeah, I agree with that. I’ll probably never listen to Michael Jackson again. But I don’t need to be told someone’s cancelled to make that personal choice. Isn’t there a hint of “let us never speak of them again” in the cancel culture? I can totally see the argument that we should stop celebrating art made by abusers but I’m less comfortable that everything they ever did ends up in some other box where we can not think about it. To clarify: I don’t want to listen to music made by abusers for entertainment and I certainly think we should stop pouring unchecked praise on their work but I’m uncomfortable if the response is to simply stop discussing them entirely.

I can’t claim any consistency: I don’t listen to Morrissey because I find his views ugly and risible but I’ll happily play the Phil Spector Christmas album despite his conviction for the most cold-blooded murder imaginable. He didn’t write or sing the songs, I guess and he’s in prison for his crime but that’s a pretty thin excuse.

Not least having lived in post-communist countries in which “cancellation” of any kind of perceived deviant was the norm, I find the rise of “cancel culture” one of the most sinister, and indeed quasi-totalitarian, developments in the Anglophone West in recent years. Cancel not, lest ye be cancelled next , on grounds likely to be spurious as substantive, is my starting point…

And to be frank if I were in the act of cancelling figures in popular culture for saying, or like R Kelly, doing actions of which I disapprove, even disapprove strongly, perhaps very strongly, I would have to cast my nets far wider than this contemptible sex criminal.

(It also misses a key point: that the sometimes despicable values that individual performers incarnate and promote don’t exist – or obtain wide publicity – in a vacuum: if one wants to be effective and also consistent about it, surely the thing would be to cancel, not so much R Kelly himself, but the record companies, agents, promoters, radio and TV stations, concert venues, that helped gain him the status and wealth that he attained. Go hard or don’t bother. Challenge the broader culture that allows abusers to flourish, and the worldview and mindset in which they operate to be normalised.)

At the time I did think it rather odd that ToTP would play the video, on at least one occasion accompanied by a comment explaining that the performer couldn’t be present in the studio (everyone knew why, and, sure, presumptions of innocence – also something cancel culture seems to object to – are fundamental to the rule of law that is essential, and indeed probably the key underpinning of , a free society), stated in a rather coy and inspecific way. And I must say I am not fully familiar with the exact cases and charges against him, and where exactly due process was at at the time this was number one.

But yes, the whole question of good music made by bad people is a moderately complicated one. Am quite happy never to listen to Gary Glitter, but his music never meant anything to me (his Christmas song being semi-cancelled is a moderately sad loss artistically though). Michael Jackson? I never loved his music either, appreciated some of it sure, wouldn’t rush to listen to it in general, but neither would I switch off the radio or complain if one of his better tracks came on. Morrissey I have no artistic problem with, and indeed have several of his albums on my MP3 player. He’s always had provocative and contrarian views – some admirable, some not admirable. As indeed should be expected of artists who engage with ideas. Billy Bragg (whose political extremism is rather deeper, long-lived, ideologically committed – “Waiting for the Great Leap Forward” indeed – is that a call for Maoism and all that that entails, and if not, why use those words ? – and frankly sinister than anything Morrissey has been close to coming up with, and *who expresses his odious views in his lyrics*) likewise: his love songs have frequently been brilliant and sensitive (while revealing other flawed and narcissistic parts of his character), his political numbers, lyrically, utterly risable and loathsome. But expecting moral leadership from artists or performers of any kind – let alone pop musicians – is a hiding to nothing.

tl; dl All humanity is flawed.

R Kelly though? Hmm, I think “She’s Got That Vibe” and the earlier number one are the only previous tracks that stick in my mind at all: the first is a decent, only moderately sleazy, party track: the second is ludicrous and overblown. And I don’t think I recall any other of his tracks or cultural impact at all.

Compared with the other two songs of his I do know, “Ignition Remix” is in a different league entirely. It’s a brilliant composition, that draws the listener deep into its world, the playful car noises, the hooks, the swagger, and drawl – “it’s the freakin’ weekend I’m gonna get me some fun” indeed – the point that several people have made about feeling the listener is made complicit with R Kelly underlines the point. Maybe is that the source of discomfort that leads people to promote “cancellation” – a sense that they too could be like R Kelly. And of course they could. Everyone could. The thing is to make sure that one is not.

No less important: to endorse someone’s art does not of itself and in itself entail endorsing their person.

A strong 8.

It’s a shame that said song has no lyrics, and so we are unable to shine some light on the strength of Billy Bragg’s belief in the economic and social campaign by the Communist Party of China from 1958 to 1962.

Presumptions of innocence are absolutely fundamental to the question of whether the law should send someone to prison – I tend to look askance at anyone over the age of 20 who insists they are an iron law outside of that.

Joe Meek is the acid test.

#14. Indeed. He and Spector at the very top of the tree in this matter.

I think Bragg started out as naive (in a fairly commonplace sort of way in some leftist sets), rather than intentionally malevolent. I agree he’s no Maoist, but “WFTGLF” (as a concept, as a chorus, and indeed in some of its lyrics outside the chorus) is such an enormous miscalculation that it does rather draw to the fore the authoritarianism that is endemic on much of the far-left. (I was personally somewhat horrified to see that it was exactly the tune to fill,and with great enthuisasm, the dance-floor at a Labour Students conference I attended, just pre-Blair, indeed at a Student Union whose authorities had made attempts to erase all reference to Shabba Ranks tracks from the compilation CDs on their jukeboxes, albeit short of removing the tracks themselves)> Yes, maybe “odious” is too strong, lyric-wise – just trying to think what else, but there did (pre-1991) seem to be a general trend of him to take the Soviet model as more admirable than any Western model. “Help Save The Youth of America” seemed to end in a way that could at least be interpreted as celebrating in the bombing and burning of several US locations. And if there was to be any criticism of the actual (if decaying) totalitarian states to be offered he appeared to regard as a better model for the UK to follow, it was, well, at most, tacit. So actually on further consideration I think I am more or less in agreement with Tommy Mack here. Maybe (and also like Morrissey) the evident presence of a sense of humour and charm adds some levity.

The online revolution means that things that used to be – and with good reason- hidden have become public. I used to think that political blogs (and what later became comments below news stories or experiments like Comment Is Free – the second part of that quote evidently being overlooked) were like, often rowdy, pubs. But more and more it seems like aspects of social media that have effectively supplanted them are more like the walls of particularly degraded pub toilets. And the way to deal with all of this exposure to – really, shit – still remains unclear (which is evidently one reason why the concept of “cancellation” has come about – perhaps understandably): what is the balance between censorship/regulation/turning a blind eye/switching off all together?

(It must be said as an aside that in this context, John Peel passed away at exactly the right time)

Tommy Mack at #8 – obviously if I thought people ought never to mention or discuss R Kelly I would not have written a longish blog post about him with an open comments thread. 🙂 I would just have skipped the entry, and people would – rightly I think given my general approach – have complained.

Forcing oneself to doggedly listen to music with uncomfortable associations seems just as artificial an approach as avoiding it – probably more so. And it’s ultimately just as reliant as “cancel culture” on an assumed external arbiter of yr ways of consuming art, the only difference is the projected culture-cop is judging you for not being open-minded enough rather than not being morally pure.

I’m not an expert on his work (though Sexuality is a strong contender for worst record ever made) but based on his public persona the idea of Billy Bragg as a far left extremist seems fairly ludicrous. He’s certainly guilty of maintaining a pathetic hope that Corbyn was something other than the catastrophe he clearly always was for longer than you’d think possible. But that came from a wooly liberal rather than “far left” place, and he’s hardly alone in it.

Tom @ #18 Yes, obviously! Sorry, I should have made it clear that I didn’t mean any of that as a criticism of your article which does an admirable job of addressing the music and the appalling deeds, each in the context of the other.

I think we’re in agreement (along with most – all? – of the commenters) that it’s for the individual to discard (a more useful notion than cancel) that which they find no longer palatable. That’s the point I was trying to make in saying I won’t listen to Michael Jackson any more because it will be impossible not to think about his alleged crimes and at the bare minimum, creepy and harmful behaviour but I probably won’t listen to Morrissey any more either because I’ll end up thinking about what a prick he’s become. (Notably they’re both performers who’s persona is at the heart of their music, as R Kelly’s is on ignition, so much harder to ignore than some of the other stuff mentioned.)

That said, while “cancel culture”, like PC culture, isn’t the iron rod the tabloids like to pretend it is, I have seen plenty of discussion online (not on here!) where people are essentially telling other who they should listen to or discuss and that is what I find counterproductive. (I have definitely been guilty of this hypocrisy in the past, wondering ‘how can people possibly listen to Chris Brown any more?’ while still playing Beatles, Joy Division, James Brown. I guess it makes some difference if the abuser in question is dead but still there’s still an element of ‘my great music > objective morality > your rubbish’.

Re21: There’s a difference between hideous crimes (and alleged hideous crimes) and opinions. I think the discussion about R Kelly should be a separate one from the one about Morrissey*.

One point of distinction between living alleged/convicted harassers and abusers and deceased ones is that MJ or Eric Gill or John Lennon are no longer profiting when we consume their work, while every radio play or stream makes a (however tiny) contribution to Mr Kelly’s wealth.

*Which is why, re15, I think Schilling should be in Hall of Fame, while sympathising with media outlets who choose not to hire him.

Re Tommy @ 23 – He did the bulk of it but I was always under the impression that it was Lennon who contributed the line about being ‘cruel to my woman’, though I could be wrong…

Surely we can leave Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough out of it? Michael at that time was a young man, coming off a rough childhood by all accounts, but I don’t think there’s any allegation against him before he started losing his mind in the painkiller-addiction years somewhere between Thriller and Bad.

When I put Off The Wall on, I’m maybe sad about what such a talented person turned into, but to think “I am listening to music made by a bad person” is just inaccurate.

@28 – this appears to be the tacit Pick of the Pops/Gambo approved approach

To me the difference between 2003 and now is the notion of Innocent until proven guilty. I think, perhaps naively, that this should hold true in the court of public opinion as much as anywhere legal. I haven’t much issue with MJ songs today for the same reason.

Anyway I agree 100% with Tom’s review. One of my all time favourite songs which I’ll never knowingly play again. Would’ve been a 10, possibly my highest 10 to popular date.

It is fairly simple from my point of view. I’ve long been on record considering R Kelly a genius. A genius who can make some utterly phenomenal music (“The World’s Greatest” is my favourite song of self-worth) and some complete tripe at the same time.

I will always love listening to the non-tripe stuff, and do regularly.

I have zero interest what he does with his penis and where, but if the authorities disagree it is entirely a matter for them.

This was always going to be an all-time great comment thread. I don’t know how much I can add.

(One bit of context I can add, regarding comments #11 / #15: for commenters who aren’t aware of this, there’s quite a difference in philosophy here. Baseball’s Hall of Fame states that “voting shall be based upon the player’s record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played.” The Pro Football Hall of Fame explictly prefers to focus on the on-field accomplishments, and that seems to have carried over into the lists produced separately by the NFL around its centennial.)

What I will say is I didn’t see the no-mark coming – Tom mentioned Dunblane as “as close to an unmarkable record as I’ll see,” and that review came in January 2014, a few weeks after the interview that Tom linked to in the “I Believe I Can Fly” review that was AFAICT the defining moment in bringing wider attention to the accusations. I agree with the decision, I just didn’t see it coming for that reason.

And that I’m genuinely amazed from this distance that R. Kelly shrugged the accusations off in the specific context of a mid-2000s America where social conservatism and moral panic was very much not in retreat, was in fact the primary driver of the only GOP popular vote plurality in a post-Cold War presidential election to date. And an early version of “cancellation culture” was well and alive and already trying to destroy the career of the Dixie Chicks for questioning the Iraq war. How did that society not cancel R. Kelly?

I mean, there’s an argument that where we’re discussing unpleasant views rather than crimes*, it’s easier for things to slip past – in the light of present Morrissey, it makes it possible to revisit Bengali in Platforms, or Panic, and listen to what minorities are saying about them – and what they’re were saying about them then.

*again the criminal aspect isn’t the most useful here, as one of the common threads is the ability of those in power to swerve such a thing – bringing it back to R. Kelly, one of the more eye-opening details in (I think) the first Jim DeRogatis article about him was that a case that was to go to court collapsed because the main witness wouldn’t testify, at the same time that Kelly had paid for her and her family to go on a long holiday in Europe.

This is easily a 10, being woke doesn’t change the fact that this is, and always will be, a banger.

Hm, I have lots of thoughts about this, sorry if they are a bit of a jumble, but here we go anyway.

First the context here – I had never been a fan of R Kelly, but when this came out I was as detached from UK (& even US) pop culture as I’ve ever been, living in Prague with my first ever proper girlfriend and only consuming pop music via the occasional world service show – so when this came out and was such a huge hit I was confused, wasn’t this guy on trial for something awful? And the song was about getting drunk and doing inappropriate things? And the album was called “Chocolate Factory”?! I just sort of passed it off as something I didn’t understand yet, but now I live in the UK again it only seems more inexplicable. My full understanding of what R Kelly really was was from the article linked in the IBICF post, and, really why were people still listening to this? Still feel I don’t really have an answer.

A few years ago I read an review of Chris Brown which just said “Don’t listen to this, he beats women” and wrote a long article which I have since deleted and won’t be putting back up. The jist was, though, (a) that there are a lot of very problematic people in music, and if you are taking a stand you should be consistent and (b) that the work was tainted only if the terribleness was reflected in the music (and gave examples of Lennon, James Brown, Chuck Berry vs Skrewdriver) – what I didn’t take into account though was (c) abusers profiting from their “dangerous” public personas and (d) there is lots of other music you can choose to listen to if you feel like it.

Is the work of Michael Jackson retrospectively tainted? As a 9-year-old I was a massive MJ fan – this was around the time Bad was out and I listened to the tape endlessly and went to the cinema to see Moonwalker, I even read his autobiography. MJ was at that point the coolest person I could ever imagine, and it feels now that this was deliberate – he was, perhaps by design, the coolest person a 9-year-old boy could imagine. This is what I hear and see if I revisit him now, a grooming of the general public. At work I deal with safeguarding and one thing we are told repeatedly is that the people being groomed are often the adults, who are being persuaded that this person is harmless around children, this fits the overgrown child persona of MJ as much as it does the eccentric jester Savile.

For Gary Glitter – think this has been discussed elsewhere, but his creative input into his music was fairly small, and it’s a shame the people really responsible have had it tainted like this.

I agree with tommy mack @8 that there is danger of sweeping this stuff under the carpet and not addressing the underlying issue – but for me this issue is that we allow celebrities a certain amount of leeway which means they are used to getting anything they want. For people with a motivation to do bad things anyway this is an absolute disaster, and we really need to stop putting artists on pedestals just because they create things we like.

Regarding “cancel culture” then – for celebrities I agree that it quite often has very little effect in the final analysis. On the other hand members of the public who get caught up in feeding frenzies on Twitter quite often do not deserve the shocking treatment they get – Jon Ronson’s book “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed” is good on this and I really am not sure why it isn’t talked about more.

Re #19 – agreed, I miss Crystal Castles too, Magic Spells was one of my favourite bits of music of the 2000s and now I can’t even bear to listen to it. But I can always listen to something else.

We don’t demand logic, consistency, etc. when people’s emotional reaction to music is love or hatred – why should disgust at the musician require it? This is the point I’ve been making throughout, really – we should consider ‘cancellation’ as an individual, visceral reaction, like almost any reaction we have to music or musicians.

Of course we can look at those reactions and see patterns in them – they aren’t entirely random, you can usually see a fluid kind of standard emerging in anyone’s responses. But this urge to try and codify it as if it was a watertight defense or prosecution standard… I’m fascinated by how the conversation always ends up going in that direction, really.

This isn’t to say this thread hasn’t been interesting and full of good points, of course.

Although Chuck Berry was implicated in abuse of a minor so again, no particular logic.

IIRC, Gary Glitter sold his publishing stake back to his record label so doesn’t receive any payment for the use of RnR pt 2 in Joker.

Apparently, the new Glitter Band singer still uses the stage name and persona of Gary Glitter, saying ‘Gary Glitter is a character which shouldn’t be tainted by what Paul Gadd did’ which seems a bit of a stretch to say the least.

A fantastic thread. I haven’t contributed until now as a concession to the realisation to what extent my personal ignoring or not of questionable artists is, as #5 put it, “inconsistent and self-serving”. I can easily, and very happily, ignore Kelly and Glitter, those who has mentioned used their celebrity and power to do evil things seemingly from the get-go. I don’t want to only listen to music by people who never put a foot wrong but for everyone else who is in either the hell or limbo of this topic, I’m either okay with some of them or with others more slightly uncomfortable listening, but listening anyway at a bit of a distance.

I’ve always been fine with Meek, not least because I believe his last five minutes or so to be a man practically beyond the realms of depression and very clearly not the same Joe Meek that made a living making music (I also believe the murder was an accident, or at least want to believe it was).

Morrissey is someone I feel more disappointed with than anything, that a seemingly well-read, clever man has turned out so dumb. I’ve had no interest in listening to him since the antics that pushed too far into the red for many (except Alsatian Cousin, where I focus on Vini and Street’s nervous noises and don’t really think about the man singing), but this isn’t a conscious shutting his music out of my life so much as a passive ‘yeah I’m not in the mood’. On a similar note, I’ve generally been fine with Spector, making his masterpieces decades before the murder, although learning of his frankly psychopathic treatment of Ronnie in the 70s has made me more weary. I am fine to listen to Born to Be with Your or All Things Must Pass, as he is not the artist, my head tells me, and maybe that’s what I feel I should go on. I don’t like to think I’d change my mind on that; even so, I can’t tell the future or how I could be feeling at another time.

Michael is perhaps the trickiest one for me. I didn’t want to listen to him for ages, and I haven’t even seen the documentary. Then one day I stick on Dangerous and find myself drawn back into the paranoid dissonance that defines almost each corner of his 90s work. And then back to his music before the crimes allegedly began. I don’t want to believe he was evil, and it would be hard to shut him out of my life, but maybe I’d want to stop listening to him again if I do get round to seeing Leaving Neverland.

And these days when I listen to Led Zep a voice in my head sometimes goes “but that’s Jimmy Page,” whose apparent dark side I admittedly know little about other than distressing passing comments from friends. Its maybe just as well that my two favourite Led Zep songs – the final two on their final album – don’t feature him much at all.