Rising New England songwriter Ava Valianti transforms personal anxiety into sharp indie pop commentary “Laugh Track“.

Few artists in the crowded field of indie pop are able to capture the strange nervousness of modern life as well as Ava Valianti does in her latest song, “Laugh Track.”

This song is a truly honest reflection on how we see ourselves and how hard it is to go through everyday life.

Valianti made a name for herself with “bubble wrap” in 2023, which was her first hit. She has since become known for being emotionally honest. Her songs “Middle Ground,” “January,” and “Wishing Well” showed that she could tell a good story, but “Laugh Track” really takes her talent to a new level.

The main image of the song—comparing life to a show where you are both the star and the punchline—seems both strangely familiar and surprisingly new.

What makes “Laugh Track” particularly compelling is how Valianti transforms everyday neurosis into something almost mythical. The persistent feeling of being watched, of performing even in solitude, becomes a universal experience rather than an isolated paranoia.

Her musical approach mirrors this duality—structured enough to be accessible, yet with enough jagged edges to avoid predictability.

The production quality complements her lyrical themes, creating a sonic environment that feels both polished and slightly off-kilter, much like the fictional universe she references.

The way Valianti talks about how uncomfortable it is to be constantly aware of oneself is strangely calming. It is not just anxiety that makes her wonder if people are smiling with her or at her; it is an awareness of how social media has turned all of our lives into things that other people can watch.

The song becomes a reflection of how we all deal with being real in a world that is becoming more and more fake.

Valianti’s music is interesting because it is somewhere between Olivia Rodrigo’s straight storytelling and Lana Del Rey’s moody sadness. But unlike either of those influences, “Laugh Track” has a wry sense of fun that keeps it from becoming just sad.

She is not just showing her pain; she is also looking at it with the distant interest of someone who has grown to find their own pain a little silly.

The song’s production deserves special mention for its restraint. Rather than overwhelming Valianti’s vocals with unnecessary flourishes, the instrumentation creates a foundation that allows her storytelling to remain front and centre.

This approach feels particularly appropriate for a song about stripping away performances to find something real underneath.

For listeners who’ve ever felt like they’re playing a character in their own lives, “Laugh Track” offers not just recognition but a kind of absolution.

By articulating the strange performance anxiety of everyday existence, Valianti transforms it from a private neurosis into a shared experience.

There’s liberation in that recognition—in knowing you’re not the only one who sometimes feels like you’re reading from a script you didn’t write.

As Valianti continues to develop her artistic voice ahead of her debut EP, “Laugh Track” suggests she’s found a rich vein of material in examining the gap between how we appear and who we are.

In an age where authenticity is simultaneously valued and commodified, her willingness to question her own performance feels like a radical act of honesty.

The final notes of “Laugh Track” linger like an unresolved question. Perhaps that’s the point—there is no neat resolution to the tension between performance and authenticity, only the ongoing negotiation of it.

In acknowledging this, Valianti has created something that feels not just true, but necessary.