Q&A: Ren Genevieve Finds Acceptance in the Uncertainty of “Slowly Fading”
INTERVIEW
INTERVIEW
☆ BY PATRICK ZAVORSKAS ☆
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT NO ANSWER IS AN ANSWER?—Sometimes acceptance doesn’t come with a confession, a final conversation or a clean ending. Sometimes, it comes from finally listening to what someone’s silence has been saying all along, especially when that silence comes in the form of an undefined relationship.
There is a particular kind of heartbreak that comes with these. It is the kind that lives somewhere between possibility and reality, where the uncertainty can feel just as intoxicating as it is painful. One might keep waiting for answers, holding onto the moments that make them believe there could be something more, even as the silence between those moments begins to tell its own story.
On “Slowly Fading,” NYC-based musician Ren Genevieve’s fourth single off her upcoming EP, she captures that liminal space between longing and letting go. Through atmospheric instrumentation, soft twangy guitar, gentle piano, and vulnerable storytelling, the song traces the emotional journey of someone slowly realizing that they may not need the answer they have been waiting for.
What begins as a question of “Are we just friends and nothing more?” gradually becomes something deeper and more powerful: an acceptance that not every ending requires someone to be the bad guy. Even more so, continuing to care about someone does not always mean continuing to wait for them when they do not want to take it farther. For Ren Genevieve, “Slowly Fading” ultimately becomes less about losing someone and more about finding the clarity to stop engaging in a cycle that no longer serves you.
In conversation with The Luna Collective, Ren Genevieve discusses the beauty and hardship of being in limbo regarding a relationship, the longing nature of potential, and how accepting that a relationship is not working out doesn't mean you stop caring about that person. Keep reading below.
LUNA: “Slowly Fading” captures the thrill and heartbreak of an undefined relationship, but underneath all of the questioning, there seems to be a growing sense of acceptance. When you listen back to the song now, do you hear it more as a song about longing or a song about coming to terms with what the relationship is?
REN GENEVIEVE: I think when I wrote it, it was definitely about longing. Now that it's done and a lot of time has passed, in a way, I do definitely hear it more as coming to terms with where the relationship is and coming to terms with an ending. At the time that I was writing it, perhaps there was that kind of underlying thing going on anyway. I tend to write to kind of figure out where I am, or figure out how I'm feeling and to write through whatever it is. Even though it felt more like longing, or I thought more about it in terms of longing when I was writing it, it probably always had that kind of undercurrent of coming to terms with and acceptance of it being where it is.
LUNA: There’s something almost comforting about the uncertainty in the song—the narrator admits that “the vagueness is intoxicating” and that there’s something euphoric about always waiting. Why do you think we can become so attached to something even when we know the uncertainty is hurting us?
GENEVIEVE: I think that there's something really thrilling in the beginning of a relationship—of getting to know somebody. I think, at least for me—I won't speak for everybody in the world—but I think I can definitely see all of the possibilities. I think sometimes I get attached to that place of possibility. At that point, you start to see that more than the person that's really in front of you. You get attached to their potential and these glimmers of who you think they can be. That can kind of make it hard when they're not really living up to it. Especially when there are moments of seeing them both as great and amazing or not having a healthy dynamic with you.
I think that it is kind of a universal experience. I think when you are in those beginning stages, you don't want them to not be the person you want them to be. I think you try everything you can, even if it's not always grounded in reality.
LUNA: The phrase “falling, flying, slowly fading” feels like it captures three different emotional stages happening at once. What does “slowly fading” represent to you? Is it the relationship fading, the hope fading or perhaps the willingness to keep waiting fading?
GENEVIEVE: I think it represents all of that to me. I was thinking of, at the time, feeling almost like I was really in love with this person that this song is about. I think that I was trying to express that feeling of being so invested, but also feeling them kind of pull back, in a way. And that… I don't know, it's almost like an arc that I kind of saw, shape-wise, when I was writing about it.
I feel like, to me, “Slowly Fading” was like, is this really slowly fading away? Or are we slowly fading into each other? I think it was more, to me, the essence of the uncertainty. You know, that it could be one of these things and I wasn't really sure at the time which it was. Or maybe I was sure what it was, and it was different from what I wanted it to be.
LUNA: The narrator keeps returning to the same questions—“Are we just friends and nothing more?”—but by the end, there seems to be less of a need for an answer. Was that shift toward acceptance something you consciously wanted the song to convey?
GENEVIEVE: I think that it definitely was a conscious choice. I definitely was leaning towards moving towards acceptance, and I wanted the song—I wanted something at the end of the song to have a really… like, to have a finality to it, almost.
In the beginning, I think it's this vacillation between, like, “what are we?” I need to know the answer. Maybe I don't need to know the answer. By the end, I wanted it to be clear that it actually didn't matter what the answer was, because this dynamic just isn't working.
I think that it was definitely a conscious thing when I was writing it. I knew that I wanted to have that bridge kind of serve as the way to transition and have all of the music use that certainty in the structure to support that.
LUNA: There’s a really delicate balance between wanting someone and recognizing that wanting them may not be enough. How did you approach capturing that tension without making the song feel purely sad?
GENEVIEVE: The song started from a very real place. Those were real questions that were asked, and real answers. It was a conversation that really stuck with me. It's something that I felt like I'd heard my friends talk about a lot, too, and I'd experienced through them. I felt like I was really intrigued by how cyclical it felt, you know? There was this inevitability to it.
At the same time, I wasn't exactly sad, per se. I think at the time when I was writing it, it was not, “over,” you know? I wasn't there yet at all when I was writing it. I was still very much figuring that part out, and I wanted it to just live in that space of limbo.
It's really interesting. I think there's something weirdly hopeful about that space. There is still this possibility that maybe things will change, and maybe it will turn into something that you want. It also can be quietly devastating, because the other option is it doesn't become what you want… you just have to slowly pull yourself away.
I think holding both of those feelings in mind during the writing process kept the song from veering too far into one or the other. I wanted it to hold space for both feelings equally.
LUNA: By the end of “Slowly Fading,” the narrator hasn’t necessarily stopped caring—they’ve just stopped being willing to stay in the same place. Is that distinction important to you?
GENEVIEVE: Yeah, I think so. I think this has especially become even more true in hindsight. I used to think that in order to fully separate yourself from someone, you have to find something wrong with them, you know? Like, “Ugh, I can't even… I don't even like you anymore. You're just an awful person.” I really used to feel like the other person almost has to be villainized in order for me to take a step back.
I think in life, that just isn't really the case. People are people. We make good and bad choices. Sometimes the impact of that is just that you might not be able to be in somebody's life the way that you thought you'd be. It doesn't necessarily mean that you don't care about them, and that was certainly true in this situation.
I wanted to make it clear that this wasn't, like, a diss track or something where I'm trying to make it clear that I hate this person, because it just wasn't really true. It was almost like it had run its natural course, and it was just time to let it go and not engage in the cycle anymore. It definitely was an important distinction for me.
LUNA: Lastly, I wanted to ask, when someone finishes listening to the song for the first time, what do you hope they're kind of left wondering, or left thinking?
GENEVIEVE: I hope that it leaves them feeling slightly reflective, but also slightly empowered. If someone can relate because they're going through something similar, I hope that they feel empowered to take a different perspective, or gain some perspective on whatever the situation is.
I also hope that, on the first listen, people can really feel the emotional journey, you know, and come away feeling like they're in a different place than where they started. The song is in a different place by the end, and I hope that people can kind of feel that shift into acceptance.
Want to explore more of Ren Genevieve’s world? Here is a playlist curated by her to help:
“Slowly Fading” by Ren Genevieve
“That’s So True” by Gracie Abrams
“BODYGUARD” by Beyoncé
“Style” by Taylor Swift
“petal” by Ariana Grande
“us. (feat. Taylor Swift)” by Gracie Abrams
“A Case of You” by Joni Mitchell
“The Circle Game” by Joni Mitchell
