Mid-auction, the band’s keyboard player put an impromptu shout out to one “Phil Harrison”. Turns out that this was the Phil Harrison you and I know as the president of Sony Computer Entertainment’s Worldwide Studios. I’d heard rumours that he’s a friend of the band, and something of a fan of their music, but I hadn’t realised he was at the convention.
Rather than bid, Harrison offered to auction a brand new PS3, paid for from his “own pocket”. The band’s keyboard player duly started the bidding at around 100 euros, getting a couple of incremental increases from interested – but slightly bemused – fans.
However, before you could say “Fake blog fiasco”, Harrison materialised on stage to commandeer both the auction, and the microphone. Realising that this was another solid gold opportunity to promote his floundering device, he blurted out the launch date, probably mumbled something about “a new dawn of interactive entertainment”, and inexplicably re-booted the auction with a fresh starting price of 600 euros.
With this following on from an extremely generous and selfless act by one of the fans, you could clearly see the band and their representatives crying slightly. Indeed, a couple of them shuffled off into the wings, presumably to acquire a large pillow with which to smother him.
What next ensued was the one lowlight of an otherwise well-intentioned, and extremely excellent weekend. For several minutes Harrison attempted to cajole an entirely silent crowd of several thousand people into bidding for his console. Terribly, but somehow inevitably, the bidding never moved beyond Harrison’s starting price. Indeed, he became increasingly desperate as it grew clear that everyone just wanted him to go away, and nobody was going to indulge his tasteless attempt at publicity.
In total, the PS3 received one bid, for the 600 euro starting price (“The price it’ll be in UK shops”, he kindly reminded everyone) – less than the t-shirt. Even then the sole bidder clearly regretted his purchase (which he only made on the promise that the console would be signed), for he spent a minute or so bellowing like a lunatic at his fellow audience members, urging them to pick up the bidding baton, and save him from his regrettable impulse purchase: “Somebody bid! It’s only a hundred quid per autograph! Please?! Why? Why? Why?”.
Harrison eventually shuffled off the stage to the sound of tumbleweeds, most of the band having left already, doubtlessly ruing the decision to let Sony’s corporate agenda taint a decidedly un-corporate weekend.
Frankly, it was one of the most awful things I have ever witnessed. On the one hand, you had a big marquee full of 2,500 Marillion fans squirming in embarrassment (“No surprise there – I’d be squirming with embarrassment if I was a Marillion fan”: A.N. Other Hilarious Wag), while on the other hand we all probably felt like Harrison had brought it upon himself, and deserved everything he got. Which he did.
I’m sure Phil Harrison is a very nice man, and if I were earning a six figure salary, and had a new console to promote, I’d probably go mad, and try and take over a rock concert too.
Nevertheless, is this just further evidence that Sony has lost it grip on both the public relations mule, and zeitgeist ***? You be the judge."
