Ava Valianti has been in the Laurelanne.media orbit long enough that a new single feels familiar in the best sense. We know the girl can write a crush with enough emotional detail to make you start checking your own messages for hidden meaning, and celebrity catches that specific kind of infatuation where one person somehow becomes the most important human being on earth. Suddenly their 2 a.m. compliment deserves archival preservation. Their smile has fucking lore. A normal text becomes evidence. You are still functioning in public, technically, while privately promoting somebody to a level of fame they absolutely did not apply for. Ava understands crush brain, and this one is wearing stars in its eyes.
kismet opens Ava into a softer groove, pulling jazz and R&B into the emotional pop writing we already know from her. Previous projects petunias and Sophomore Slump showed us different versions of Ava, from introspective indie-pop into bigger guitar-driven pop-rock. celebrity turns inward again with more glow around the edges. The song feels romantic enough to make the fixation seductive without making it heavy. That matters because Ava is writing about idolization from inside the fantasy, while she is still enjoying the damn view.
Advertisement
She gets there immediately with “you swim in my bloodstream / we make modern melodies / without you it’s a bad dream / do you see me, celebrity?” The bloodstream image is dramatic as hell, which is the point. A crush this intense stops feeling like something you think about and starts behaving like something circulating through you. Then “do you see me, celebrity?” flips the fame dynamic beautifully. Ava is the artist pursuing an actual public career, yet this other person has become the famous one inside her head. She is the one looking up.
The details make that pedestal feel believable. “you call me pretty 2am super bowl sunday / make me your very own rosy bouquet / say it’s not much then give me the all the stars in the sky / and smile how you do.” That first line is such good crush logic because there is nothing traditionally cinematic about 2 a.m. on Super Bowl Sunday. The moment becomes huge because of who said it. That is how infatuation fucks with scale. Somebody calls you pretty at the right hour and suddenly your brain has commissioned a documentary about it.
Ava pushes the celebrity metaphor further with “you step onto the carpet, smile for the pictures / everyone’s favorite person in the world.” She is building paparazzi around somebody who may only exist this way to her. I love that because every serious crush eventually develops its own private publicity department. You tell your friends what they said. You replay the expression on their face. You defend tiny gestures as proof that this person is extraordinary while everybody else is sitting there wondering if you need water. Ava knows the ridiculousness is part of the rush.
Then she slips in “with hands to wrap around my soul and make it start to sing / it’s dizzying,” and that is where the song gets its tension. Nothing sexual needs to happen for desire to feel physical. Somebody can walk into your emotional field and suddenly your whole internal weather changes. “It’s dizzying” is almost understated after everything she has built around this person, because Ava has already given them access to her bloodstream and promoted them to global celebrity status. Of course the room is spinning a little.
Advertisement
The bridge finally admits how far the fantasy has gone with “stars in my eyes / stars in my head / idolize your / imperfections.” That is the whole fucking song in four lines. Infatuation does not require perfection because once you are this deep in it, even the flaws get good PR. You start finding meaning in the crooked smile and the weird habits because your brain has already decided the campaign is going beautifully. “no need for pain / no need for grief / got what i need / the galaxy” takes the obsession somewhere almost cosmic. One person has become an entire fucking universe, and Ava is happy to orbit for a while.
We have watched Ava move through enough music here that celebrity feels like a real turn rather than a reintroduction. We’ve already heard Ava get inward on petunias and turn the guitars up on Sophomore Slump. Now kismet is opening with jazz and R&B in the bloodstream, and Ava is letting that warmer sound carry a song about wanting somebody so badly that perspective gets a little drunk. The career numbers keep climbing too, with more than 650,000 streams and hundreds of radio stations behind her, but the charming irony is that celebrity makes somebody else the star.
That is where the song finally gets me. Ava spends celebrity staring upward at this person she has turned into a constellation, convinced every tiny gesture deserves its own fucking spotlight. The crush may eventually come back down to earth. For these few minutes, she lets it stay enormous. Sometimes somebody really does feel like the whole galaxy because your heart has shitty boundaries and excellent lighting. celebrity lets Ava enjoy that beautiful little distortion before reality remembers to interrupt.
