media_cloud_big.jpg

As we all know, the PlayStation is 20 years old this week – at least in Europe. Rather than make this a study in retrospect of what truly happened from that glorious month of September 1995 onwards, I've been asked to plunder my own brain for thoughts on the impact made by PlayStation in the UK.

I was just finishing my term as Deputy Editor of Nintendo Magazine System in September 1995, which meant that I could keep my thoughts about PlayStation to myself for a while. The previous Christmas I had borrowed the company's imported Japanese PlayStation, and drove the heck out of Ridge Racer. I really didn't care much for Crime Crackers, and I doubt that many people did. Sony's console was a known quantity, then, but my heart, soul, and source of income was then Nintendo.

Since its Japanese launch in December 1994, PlayStation had yet to prove itself beyond being an exotic imported machine with unusual controllers and a fairly impressive start-up screen. Sony had no history of dominance in the arcades, nor a roster of classic video game heroes that we couldn't wait to see emerge in next-generation glory. It had Namco, which was certainly something, but was kind of treated as the friend of a friend that wants an invite to your party, but the gang was all here.

I guess Sony spent the next four years reminding guys like me how to treat a VIP.

52413-Tekken_3_(E)_(Alt)-2.jpg

Still, like any gamer with money burning a hole in their pocket, I made an effort to buy a launch PlayStation from HMV on Oxford Street. I'm pretty sure, this was on day one. I picked up WipEout and Rapid Reload, but hardly touched the latter since it was not a patch on Gunstar Heroes, the awesome Mega Drive game upon which it was surely based. WipEout though…

See, here's what Sony did straight away with its launch titles outside of Japan: it gave us something that felt home-grown, that seemed extraordinarily cool for the UK. Not geek chic, or anything that required thinking about for longer than a second. Genuinely, cool. Though I'd hugely enjoyed pushing the limits of Ridge Racer with 'Rhythm Shift' and 'Rare Hero' working me into a frenzied state, WipEout had the Chemical Brothers' 'Chemical Beats' and Leftfield's 'Afro-Ride'. Its visuals were phenomenal for the time, showcasing the whizz-bang capabilities of PlayStation versus SEGA's Saturn and – I probably should give it a mention at least – the Atari Jaguar, AKA 'the Tempest 2000 machine'.

mgs.jpg

Though we'd missed the boat by a couple of issues when I took charge of Computer & Video Games magazine at the end of September, my assembled team of gaming diehards made sure that we went big on WipEout for the November issue, which went on sale in October. It felt like embracing the future, and our ambitions for the magazine itself, commissioning The Designers Republic to produce our cover image and cover lines. As somebody who had always wanted for games to be appreciated in the mainstream, looking to ignite a spark wherever possible, with that WipEout issue of CVG we were riding the lightning. We were embracing something huge.

PlayStation still seemed gimmicky, though, and a little bit 'one-hit-wonder'. In the approach to Christmas 1995, there were ridiculous levels of excitement in our office for SEGA's Virtua Cop, Virtua Fighter 2 and SEGA Rally. Then, in December, I flew out to Japan for the unveiling of Nintendo 64, with the game-changing Super Mario 64. The status quo of the past few years seemed undisturbed by Sony's presence in the market. Our prevailing champions were continuing to behave like the hottest venues with their own house bands, while Sony was just a club for hire with a snazzy PA.

maxresdefault (2).jpg

At this point I should mention my favourite, or most valuable, PlayStation memory that was really a Nintendo memory to begin with. At the Shoshinkai Show in 1995, where N64 was first shown, I'd managed to muscle in on the 'after party' at a nearby hotel. I had a conversation with Martin Hollis from Rare, excited about Goldeneye. The proper way to behave here was to be fawning over the achievement of Mr Miyamoto and Mr Takeda, to discuss a lot of what company president Hiroshi Yamauchi had been saying about PlayStation being this blight on the world of video games with its too many titles overcrowding the store shelves, most of which were mediocre. Then I beamed at Shiny Entertainment's David Perry, a basic, 'what did you think?!' question, expecting an 'Oh my goodness, Nintendo – just wow' response. Instead, he seemed genuinely angry about the decision to go with the cartridge format. He was declaring quite loudly that he was never going to support N64. It was a portent of things to come, I just didn't know it at the time.

Yamauchi had also spent a good long while banging on about Final Fantasy and other exclusives belonging to Nintendo. What David Perry had said, combined with Yamauchi's cock-sure comments, became a time bomb at the back of my brain while it searched for reasons to admire PlayStation. In January 1996, that bomb went off: Square announced Final Fantasy VII as a PlayStation exclusive. Sony had started to assemble some very big guns indeed, with Resident Evil arriving in March 1996 to shake things up even further. PlayStation was still the pretender to the throne, however.

In CVG, PlayStation continued to play third fiddle to Saturn and Nintendo 64, the latter launching in June 1996 overseas. We gushed about Sonic Fighters, Fighting Vipers, NiGHTS and Mario 64. We hardly took the first-looks at PlayStation's Crash Bandicoot seriously at all (despite secretly enjoying it). We gave Wipeout 2097 some pages, though mainly because it had The Prodigy on its soundtrack. Resident Evil had been amazing, but another one-off. Then, in September, we saw Tomb Raider at the ECTS show in London, while in Japan – around the same time – our correspondent sent news about a game called PaRappa the Rapper. Though I may be over simplifying things, I remember observing how these two games convinced the mainstream style press to court PlayStation in a way that SEGA and Nintendo could only dream of for their old school mascots. Tomb Raider eventually made it onto the cover of THE FACE magazine, while PaRappa featured on the trending pages inside.

The January 1997 issue of CVG was probably the turning point regarding our acceptance of PlayStation as not only credible but irresistible. This was our Christmas NiGHTS cover that came bundled with a small book we'd made called The Complete History of Computer & Video Games, which more or less painted Nintendo 64 as the future, because it hadn't launched yet in the UK. We were toasting everything SEGA and Nintendo had delivered unto us so far as passionate hobbyists: jaunty mascots, faithful arcade conversions, AM2, Nintendo EAD, and Sonic Team. The next issue we had Rage Racer on the cover, because that game was just seriously awesome.

53211-Ridge_Racer_(J)-1.jpg

From the top of 1997 was just a period of acceptance. Not everyone was playing Tekken 2 instead of Virtua Fighter 2, but it became a genuine lunchtime favourite. We were getting reader calls about PlayStation more than anything else, including how to do the trick with the hair-clip and disc-swap for imported games on a PAL console. Rather unfortunately, though, creating the kind of publicity Sony benefited from having, pirated PlayStation games were spreading like wildfire owing to modified – 'chipped' – PlayStations that made them function similarly to specialist Debug units.

PlayStation had grown to become the console of the people, which may seem terribly corny, but this had never happened before in the UK. Not even with the Super NES and Mega Drive, no matter how edgy SEGA's Pirate TV campaign had been for the latter, or how many homes brought home Sonic the Hedgehog. PaRappa the Rapper was one of the coolest games ever. Final Fantasy VII just made time stand still at key moments in that unforgettable story. Polyphony Digital's Gran Turismo that launched in Japan that Christmas was completely jaw-dropping.

PaRappaRapper.jpg

Nintendo had pretty much thrown everything into Pokémon by this stage, which was wonderful all by itself, and allowed The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time to be in no great rush for the otherwise unremarkable N64 catalogue. SEGA had Burning Rangers for the Saturn, which was Sonic Team at its best, but way too weird for most tastes. Some of you may remember the extensive coverage that CVG dedicated to Tekken 3 on PlayStation in 1998, completely deserved as it was off-the-scale amazing considering the hardware limitations. And then we were on the approach for Metal Gear Solid, which became another darling of the mainstream press. As did Gran Turismo, appearing in automotive publications that were rather annoyingly beating the games press to exclusive reports.

From being nowhere in 1994, to seemingly everywhere in 1998, PlayStation excitement rapidly grew to become big enough to support an entire market unto itself. Sure, a colossal amount of marketing spend that SEGA hadn't a hope of matching, while Nintendo bet the farm on Pokémon, would have ensured that PlayStation became a household name if not always a household possession. But, for me, having watched all the games – so many games – flourish on Sony's platform, benefiting from a once-in-a-lifetime period of financial stability and creative magic, PlayStation's greatest triumph was that it was never a me-too deal. It made real superstars out of anyone capable of reaching that high.