Last night's Eurovision Song Contest was a spectacle of sequins, pyrotechnics, and the now-iconic 'Bangaranga' dance. The British production team was widely praised for its slick camera work and staging, a rare moment of national pride in a contest that has often left viewers exasperated. But as the confetti settles and the glitter fades, there is a more grounded story to tell.
For the thousands who filled the Liverpool Arena, the cost of a ticket was a significant hit: some paid upwards of £300 for standing spots. For those watching from home, the price of a takeaway or a drinks delivery to mark the occasion added to the monthly budget squeeze. And while the BBC's coverage was seamless, the real economy of Eurovision remains invisible: the low-paid stewards, the catering staff, the cleaners who worked through the night.
Their wages have not seen the same uplift as the production values. This year's contest was a triumph of British technical skill, but the applause must extend to the workers who made it happen, not just the directors in the gallery. The cost of living crisis affects everyone, even in the glamorous world of pop music.
As we celebrate our cultural exports, let us not forget the price paid by ordinary people to participate. Eurovision may be a night of escapism, but it is also a microcosm of the UK's widening inequalities: brilliant at the top, struggling underneath. That is the real story from Liverpool.
The song may be over, but the economic harmony is yet to be composed.
