Lotti On the Making Of “Rogue”
Is there a person/event that stimulated the creation of “Rogue?”
Honestly, Rogue started with me trying to sell my mom’s salvaged title Nissan Rogue. It worked great, but because it was “salvaged,” potential buyers kept bailing, and I was left waiting... and waiting. My mom had moved to the Philippines and needed the money, so the pressure was on. It got frustrating—like I was giving people the benefit of the doubt and they just didn’t show up. The whole experience felt like a metaphor for my life at the time: being too “nice” and waiting on people who just leave you hanging.
Were there any challenges or breakthrough moments during the songwriting process for this song?
I started the song in the studio with Jaye Locke, and we had the melody and first lyrics down. But I couldn’t quite finish it. So, I took the rough ideas home, opened Logic, and started mumbling and jumbling my thoughts into the microphone. I thought I was done, but one day, while walking home from work, I started singing the song to myself, and out of nowhere, “your favorite girl is gone” replaced “your second chance is gone.” It hit me hard—that last line hurt the most and felt like the perfect final punch.
How did you work with the producer or engineers to bring your vision for this single to life?
Working with Jaye Locke and Jackson Wise was seamless. Jaye and I have a great creative flow—we started the session just talking about life, and he began plucking chords on the guitar. By the end of that session, we knew exactly what the song was about. I knew early on I wanted to call it Rogue, even though the word isn’t in the lyrics. When Jackson heard the track, he actually found a perfect moment to bring “Rogue” into the vocals. It was a real collaborative effort, and I’m so grateful for those moments of creative synergy. It all came together beautifully.
Can you share a bit about your musical background and the journey that led you to where you are today?
Music has always been part of my life. I grew up in the Philippines, and there, it feels like singing is in everyone’s DNA. I learned to accompany myself on piano in church and played hymns for the choir, which taught me the emotional power of music. I don’t go to the Mormon church anymore, but it was in those moments that I realized how music moves people—how God, soul, and community all exist in song.
When I moved to the States at 17, I could’ve almost forgotten about music. I went through nursing school, and for a while, I was in survival mode, just trying to assimilate. But during that time, my passion for singing and songwriting reignited. It became the thing that pulled me back to myself.
How do you balance crafting relatable stories with maintaining your unique voice as a songwriter?
I believe we all have the same stories—different details, but the same heart. There’s something powerful about meeting someone and immediately recognizing their story, even if it’s just in the way they talk or carry themselves. I think that’s what makes songwriting universal. My voice as a songwriter comes through the specific emotions and moments I choose to highlight, but the stories are ones we all share.
