There’s magic in hearing an artist for the first time and you instantly know they’re special. With “Buttercups,” I had that rare, heart-stirring moment. This is my first introduction to Ava Valianti, and I couldn’t imagine a better one. At just 15 years old, she’s wielding the kind of songwriting depth and emotional honesty that many artists spend decades trying to find. Ava writes and sings as if she’s lived a thousand lives; her words are steady, her melodies are magnetic, and her storytelling is richly cinematic. Consider this your warm welcome, Ava, to a place where we celebrate artists who bare their souls and turn them into music that lingers. And now that Ava belongs here, let’s delve into her beautiful song, “Buttercups” released on July 11, 2025.
Buttercups opens with a hushed elegance; delicate piano keys trace a soft melody while a gentle guitar strum glimmers in the background. It’s an intimate introduction that leans in close, like a whispered secret. And then, she begins: “You smell like cinnamon. You turn on the kitchen light. You are love and sin. You whisper sweet everything’s all night.” These lines pull you straight into Ava’s world, one painted in sensory details, warm light, and quiet ache. You can smell the cinnamon, see the kitchen glow, and feel the bittersweet weight in the phrase “love and sin.” It’s a song that begins in a small room but carries the emotional scope of a storm brewing just outside the window.
Ava’s vocals are a revelation. She has a voice that carries fragility and strength in the same breath; airy enough to caress the song’s quietest moments, yet resolute enough to soar over the crashing choruses. Her delivery feels deeply lived-in; when she repeats “Aren’t you my buttercup, my buttercup baby”, it’s not just a hook but a plea, a memory, and a challenge. The emotion in her phrasing isn’t just sung, it’s felt.
Lyrically, Buttercups is soaked in imagery. Ava scatters moments like breadcrumbs — “I’ll look for yellow under your chin”, “I’m still in the garden planting petunias” and somehow, they feel deeply personal and universally relatable. It’s a song about love and loss, yes, but also about the stubborn way we hold on to memories, even when they hurt. Ava captures the duality perfectly in one devastating line: “All that’s left is love / It spreads through me like a deadly disease”
As the track unfolds, it swells into a dynamic pop-rock anthem. The production is nicely layered — driving percussion pulses through the mix, electric guitars rise with urgency, and the rhythm builds into something that mirrors the turbulence of the emotions at its core. The transition from soft, tender reflection to anthemic, full-bodied sound feels like heartbreak turning into defiance in real time. It complements her writing beautifully. It’s clear that Buttercups wasn’t just recorded; it was crafted.
For a debut feature on this blog, Ava Valianti has arrived not with a whisper, but with a bloom ; one that is tender at the edges and fierce at the heart. Buttercups is the kind of song you don’t just hear once; it follows you, like the scent of cinnamon in a kitchen you once knew, long after you’ve stepped outside.
Listen to “Buttercups” on Spotify
Follow Ava Valianti here for more information
