June 2006

OLD BUT GOLD

Old but gold

Advertisers riding the World Cup wave struggle to differentiate themselves but a classic PR stunt can produce more buzz for less cash

http://media.guardian.co.uk/columnists/story/0,,1797384,00.html

According to the recent front page report of one marketing publication, the squillions being squandered on brand penetration during the World Cup are falling short of the intended mark.
Logos are washing over football watchers like some subliminal tsunami, and a Russian oligarch's ransom (an 'Abramovich' as it's technically known) is being squandered on sale promotion offers, virals and glossy ads.

The advertisers' mission: that a global audience will sup more beer (responsibly of course), drive more eco-chic cars, and devour more mechanically recovered meat.

But the best value for money in this World Cup, where a single advertising hoarding in a single game costs £500,000, comes from a good old-fashioned publicity stunt. And it's cost less than £2,000.

My cynical radar went on high alert this morning on hearing of a football-crazy British band who have generated a huge dump of ink and broadcast noise with a tremendous tale.

To make them feel at home while watching the World Cup in Germany they have pre-ordered a celebration curry to be flown in from their home restaurant in Bath.

The previously unknown band, Opposite World, have allegedly been taken to the football tournament as a reward for getting their latest single into the dance charts. So after watching England play Trinidad and Tobago in Nuremberg on Thursday, they plan to feast on their fave meal.

The curry will be carried to Germany by restaurant manager Abdul Nasir, who told a news agency: "We received a phone call on Saturday for a takeaway to Germany and thought it was someone having a laugh. But we were contacted again and they gave us a deposit so we knew it was genuine."

The equally previously unknown restaurant, Bombay Nights, is preparing a feast including ramo dakhna chicken, mirchi fish, lamb karahi and Bombay king prawns, together with a selection of rice, naan breads and starters.

The meal is expected to set the record label back £1,600, including the cost of transporting it 800 miles - complete with the required, chrome, night-light heaters - to the boys' hotel, where it will be served.

It's enough to get Sandi Thom to pick up her guitar, pen a ditty to the lads and broadcast it across the net from her basement.

I wiped tears of joy away as I was overcome with the inspiration of taking an old PR standby, used by every Indian carry out, and then reworking it into a modern day idiom.

We have all seen it before: a new Bengal Balti opens up in the local high street and before you can say chicken jalfrazi, some punter has ordered a meal for two to be delivered to a hotel in Toronto. Well after all, chicken tikka masala is more popular than fish and chips these days, and no one cooks 'em like they do down the Passage to India.

The value of the column inches to the label are worth hundreds of thousands, far outstripping the cost of the meals delivery. Media outlets from Germany to South Korea celebrate the band's name. I dare say a few radio stations will be illustrating the story with a snatch of Opposite World's hit.

Capturing the zeitgeist is the heart of any great PR scam. Mix it up with a touch of Del Boy mischief and Bob (or in this case, Abdul) is your uncle. The cost of the exercise is next to nothing and is more ingenious than a bunch of actors parading the virtues of a the power supplier that is currently fuelling the ITV coverage.

Better to bet the equity in your two-up two-down, buy-to-rent investment on Opposite World getting a number one over the next few months.

Let's face it: at the moment it's more likely than Ronaldo, who seems to have taken the burger ads to heart, scoring the winning goal on July 9

WHY PR DOESN'T PAY

It was the stunt of the week - the unknown pop singer heading for the top of the charts thanks to webcasts from her basement flat. And it didn't just make Sandi Thom an overnight sensation. It's done wonders for the media profile of Quite Great, a PR company from Cambridge.

http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/organgrinder/2006/06/why_pr_doesnt_pay.html

But just how will they benefit? Yes, it's true that new clients will be beating a path to their door (if they have doors in deepest East Anglia), but I'm concerned that it won't help entertainment PR get a fair deal for its clients.

Because the sad truth is that entertainment PR doesn't pay. Not even when you have a big 'hit' like Quite Great did in the broadsheets this week: a rare example of the double-whammy when the publicist gets as much publicity as their client.

The reason is because entertainment PR delivers The Lifestyle. Too many boutique operations are so thrilled by the chance to buy into The Lifestyle- that they can't command a decent fee.

As anyone in business knows, you can't set your price high when there's someone prepared to undercut you. And in entertainment PR there's always someone ready to work for next to nothing - it's got to be the most attractive job in the world because half the country believes it involves little more than going to glamorous parties and rubbing shoulders with celebs.

Truth is, most successful PR firms sell their image by touting the big celeb names they look after, but make their money from the dull and boring corporate clients (or in my case, exciting and interesting corporate clients).

And while Quite Great will already be reaping the rewards of massive broadsheet coverage of their 'was-it/wasn't-it' stunt, their accountants may be less impressed when they start to do the sums.

The outside world - the non-PR world - of course will continue to believe that this sort of front-page publicity makes its recipients rich beyond their dreams. But ask Pete Bassett, the boss of Quite Great, if he'll be holidaying in the Seychellesor taking a caravan in Clactonthis summer. Metaphorically, of course, Pete.

The people who do well out of entertainment PR are the people who always do well: the managers, the lawyers, the agents; the executives in record companies and film companies who spend every waking hour taking 'meetings' and have never had an original idea in their lives.

Meanwhile, so long as the creative folk are content to bask in the shimmer of reflected glory in return for a good table at the Ivy/ House - or, if you're in Cambridge with Quite Great, perhaps a Little Chef - the price will never be right.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think my table is waiting...