Lotti’s latest single, Bring It Out of Me, isn’t just a song—it’s a confessional booth wrapped in hypnotic production, an intimate dance between vulnerability and the kind of power that only comes from embracing what lurks in the shadows.
From the moment the track begins, Lotti lures us in with a voice that’s equal parts silk and storm—smooth enough to seduce, but carrying an undercurrent of raw, untamed emotion. The melody moves like a whispered secret, weaving through a soundscape that’s as dreamy as it is dangerous. One second, you’re floating; the next, you’re spiraling into something deeper than you expected.
Lyrically, Bring It Out of Me is a slow-burning revelation. It speaks to the parts of ourselves we’d rather keep tucked away—the instincts, the desires, the truths we think are better left unspoken. But as Lotti reminds us, repression is an illusion. What we hide doesn’t disappear—it lingers, it festers, and eventually, it demands to be seen.
And let’s talk about that production! With a beat that pulses like a heartbeat just on the edge of quickening, the track builds an intoxicating tension. It’s got that late-night allure—the kind that makes you want to sink into its rhythm and surrender to the moment. There’s a duality at play here by Jackson Wise: it’s smooth but sharp, sultry but aching, controlled yet teetering on the brink of something wild.
But beyond the sonics, Bring It Out of Me carries a message that’s deeply personal—and universally resonant. Lotti hopes listeners walk away from this track with permission. Permission to feel. To embrace the messy, the unfiltered, the shadowy parts of ourselves that we often try to suppress. Because maybe—just maybe—those parts were never meant to be hidden in the first place.
This song is all about embracing what we usually suppress. Was there a defining moment in your life when you realized you needed to stop holding things in?
Absolutely. Growing up in a not only conservative but also Mormon household in the Philippines, I was taught to hold things in. Don’t make a scene. Don’t let your emotions get too loud. Don’t disturb the peace.
But over time, I realized that suppressing emotions doesn’t make them go away—it just makes them louder in my own head. I feel so much better when I live honestly, when I don’t bottle up the big feelings—not just grief, sadness, or guilt, but also joy, excitement, and love. That’s where Bring It Out of Me comes from—giving those emotions a space to exist instead of shutting them down.
When you were writing Bring It Out of Me, did you have a specific person, memory, or feeling in mind that triggered the lyrics?
Oh yeah. The song pulls from different moments where I felt like I was pushing things down too much.
I have this roommate—we get along for the most part, no real bad blood. But damn, sometimes her nitpicking and interesting take on personal space test my patience. Even little things, like how much she hates the smell of onions when I cook, can set me off in ways I didn’t expect.
And then there was my ex—someone who triggered me in ways I wasn’t even fully aware of. I kept telling myself “I’m fine,” but really, I had just gotten good at bottling everything up. Until something small would happen, and suddenly, I wasn’t fine at all.
This song is about recognizing those emotions instead of pretending they don’t exist. Some people bring out anger and irritation, others bring out love and openness—and both sides deserve to be seen.
Your music carries a mix of seduction and emotional unraveling. Do you think that duality reflects who you are as a person too?
Haha, first of all—thank you! I don’t know if I would call myself seductive exactly, but I do think there’s something powerful about embracing feminine energy.
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to contain my emotions, my intensity, my presence. But lately, I’ve been leaning into the full spectrum of who I am—the softness, the power, the messiness, the depth. So I guess the duality you hear in my music is really just me learning to exist fully in my own skin.
What part of Bring It Out of Me—whether a lyric, melody, or moment in the song—feels the most personal to you, like a direct window into your soul?
For me, it’s definitely the verses. They almost feel biblical in a way. As I said previously, I grew up in a Mormon home where scripture was a huge part of my life, and I think that influence made its way into my writing without me even realizing it.
Lines like "Forty days and forty nights, through the desert, through the storm..." —they feel like something I would’ve read growing up, except now, I’m reclaiming that language for my own story. It’s about endurance, questioning, and survival, but also about being honest with yourself about what you can and can’t hold in anymore.
I also just love the second prechorus all the way to the chorus to the end. Just~ it makes me feel like I can let go and shake out my head and limbs in a way that feels good! There’s something freeing about that moment in the song—it feels like a physical release, like I’m allowing my body to move the way my emotions want to.
If you could play Bring It Out of Me for a past version of yourself, at what point in your life would you want to hear it, and what would you hope that younger you takes from it?
I’d play it for 7-year-old me, just to see her reaction! hehe. That'd be so precious <3 I’d want her to know that she’s not boring! And in fact, she’s a gem.
That we are growing into someone who doesn’t have to shrink herself down, who gets to express everything she feels.
What's next for you?
My first-ever EP is coming this March! Haha, it’s been a long time coming, and I’m so glad we’re finally getting close to the release. But honestly, this is just the beginning, and that’s the most exciting part—I can’t wait for everything that comes next. <3 <3 <3