We recently had the chance to connect with Adam Silvestri and have shared our conversation below.
Adam, we’re thrilled to have you with us today. Before we jump into your intro and the heart of the interview, let’s start with a bit of an ice breaker: What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
Prioritize happiness. For as long as I can remember, if something I did didn’t somehow serve my music, I’d feel this overwhelming guilt — like I was letting myself down. Maybe that’s just some classic New England Catholic guilt buried deep from growing up in Massachusetts. But lately, I’ve been trying to break that pattern. Guilt is never helpful. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that happiness threatened purpose — that if you weren’t suffering, you weren’t really working hard enough toward your goals. What a dumb idea to believe. It’s a pretty foolish way to live.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name’s Adam Silvestri, and I’m a songwriter. I play in a band here in LA called Radiator King, with Brian Viglione on drums and Alex Burke on keys. Radiator King used to be more of a solo project, with different collaborators coming and going over the years, but since moving to LA, it’s really become a proper band.
I think people sometimes get the wrong impression when you talk about being a solo musician versus being in a band. I never chose to go solo — it just kind of happened out of necessity. You reach an age where the pool of musicians crazy enough to dedicate their whole lives to music starts to shrink. Which makes sense — people get married, start careers, have kids. Eventually, you realize that if you’re really going to go all in and make music your life, you’ve got to learn how to operate on your own. Because if you’re passing up tours because Gary the bass player has his son’s bar mitzvah, well, you’re never going to get anywhere.
So for years, I just did it solo. But I’ve found that if you keep your head down and do the good work — the hard work — people start to take notice. You begin to attract others who recognize that same work ethic and dedication and want to build something with you. That’s how I ended up playing with Alex and Brian.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
It would be in terms of songwriting – the first time I wrote a song. I must’ve been around ten years old, in my room, trying to learn a Jimi Hendrix song that was way beyond my ability. I completely butchered one of his riffs and accidentally played something different — something that wasn’t his but mine. Up until that moment, it had never occurred to me that I could write something of my own. I thought that was reserved for rock stars. But there I was, looping that little riff over and over, amazed that I had created something unique — something that had never existed before. It felt like I had just uncovered a great secret about art, about life. That realization hit me hard — that there’s real power in creating something from nothing. From that point on, all I wanted to do was write my own songs. Sure, I’d still learn other people’s music, but only so I could dissect it and figure out how to make my own writing stronger.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
It’s taught me character. It’s easy to live by your ideals when things are going your way, but how you act when everything falls apart — that’s character, that’s what defines you. It’s easy to be courageous and righteous when you’re not suffering, but when life knocks you down, what do you do then? That’s when you learn what you’re really made of.
There’s this Bill Murray movie, The Razor’s Edge — one of the few serious roles he’s ever done — and there’s a line where he says to his Tibetan teacher, “It’s easy to be a holy man on top of a mountain.” That’s always stuck with me. Because it’s true — anyone can keep it together when things are going smooth. But when life kicks you around and beats you down, what do you do then? I actually believe there’s opportunity hidden in those moments. You learn what you’re capable of enduring, and you carry that with you everywhere you go. We can endure a hell of a lot more than most of us realize.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Whom do you admire for their character, not their power?
My grandfather, Chuck. His parents came over from Italy and settled in Boston’s North End — they made their living fishing. When he was 18, he enlisted in the Army, went off to the Philippines to fight in WWII, and stayed through reconstruction. When he got back home, he married my grandmother, bought a house in Medford, MA, with the money he’d saved installing tile and carpet, and they raised five kids. He was a great man — a badass ballplayer, too. Everything he did came from the goodness of his heart — never for attention, credit, or recognition. He did it for his country, his community, his family, his friends. I’ve heard so many stories about him over the years, but he never bragged or talked about himself. True character is how you carry yourself when nobody’s watching.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. Have you ever gotten what you wanted, and found it did not satisfy you?
Yea, its happened many times in my life. Those moments when you finally get what you thought you wanted, only to feel… empty. Usually, it’s because you believed that thing — a bigger audience, the right relationship, more money — would fix something deeper you were struggling with. So you fixate on this one goal, thinking it’ll fill a void. But it never really does. And if it does, it’s temporary. If you’re honest with yourself from the start — if you really take the time to ask why you want that thing — you might save yourself a lot of time and grief.
Contact Info:
- Website: http://radiatorkingmusic.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/radiatorkingmusic/#
- Other: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1sLtH5J5z3XioiGkTr6LEP
Image Credits
Photo 1 – Michelle Shiers, Photo 2 – Ken Pollin, Photo 3 – Sarah Clasby, Photo 4 and 5 – Michelle Shiers, Photo 6 – Ken Pollin
