Picture this: a sun-soaked coastal road (“la litoranea”), cars honking, people chatting, waves glittering in the distance… and one restless heart trying to outrun its own thoughts. In Litoranea, Elisa and Matilda De Angelis turn a simple seaside stroll into a vivid movie scene where confusion is the main character. The fridge holds a lonely half-orange soda, the streets are full of runners, and every sound reminds the singer of the person who is suddenly miles away. That short stretch of coastline feels chaotic because love, distance, and memory are colliding all at once.
Yet beneath the bustle, the song pulses with hope and playful irony. Elisa admits the separation makes her love even stronger, compares their faces and beaches as “the same thing” divided only by millimeters, and invites the other to “rise with the rhythm” that keeps building like a summer anthem. It is a mental game, as bright and shifting as TV colors, capturing how break-ups can feel surreal, cinematic, even exhilarating. Litoranea is the soundtrack of getting lost on purpose—walking all the way to the water, phone in hand—because sometimes the only way to breathe again is to dance through the confusion. 🎧🌊🚶♀️