Anthony J. Resta “The Guitar Man”

When it first dropped in 1972, Bread’s “The Guitar Man” struck a deep chord with listeners searching for hope amid the grit and roar of classic rock’s golden era. Its laid-back groove and quiet sincerity made it an enduring staple—and one of Anthony J. Resta’s childhood favorites. It’s a testament to the impassioned artist, the kind who can’t help but pour his heart and soul into the work, no matter how uncertain the road ahead. And that description perfectly fits Resta—a lifer who loves music more than anything, who dares to take the long, unpaved way forward, always creating, always chasing something bigger. Because, as the lyric goes, “something keeps him going, miles and miles a day”—and he refuses to let anything stand in his way.

Representing a year’s worth of meticulous craft, Resta’s reimagining sways with the tenderness of the original but wraps it in a hazy, cinematic shimmer—like smoke rising from the soft edges of a dream. His subdued vocal echoes David Gates’ wistful glow, saturated with warmth but tinged with melancholy, raw emotion seeping through each crack. His daughter, Milana Resta, also accompanies Anthony on the violin. Meanwhile, collaborator Tim Pierce—hailed as one of the top 10 session guitarists in history—slides through a cascade of lush, full-bodied riffs, adding a psychedelic undercurrent that carries the weight of a resounding confession: “I could never dream of doing anything else.” By the time it crests in a swirl of wailing violins, eclectic guitars, and percussive crashes—this timeless tune feels reborn—a glowing tribute that ensures “The Guitar Man” will never truly “fade away.”

It’s hard to believe that Resta hasn’t been a solo performer until now—he carries himself like someone who’s been gracing stages for decades, following his passion wherever it leads. After years behind the console, he’s gained a rare perspective into the creative’s heart. Now stepping fully into the role of “The Guitar Man,” he beckons viewers into a hypnotic landscape where wonder and comfort coexist. The vibrant “The Guitar Man” music video, directed by filmmaker Joe Rubenstein, bottles the electricity of being in the crowd at a Pink Floyd or Radiohead performance—that transcendent moment when the performers give everything, and the sound hits so hard, so completely, it feels like liftoff. The fuzz of the speakers sends listeners orbiting over galaxies, uncovering hidden corners of the cosmos. What are music lovers, after all, if not astronauts drifting through the vast terrains of the soul? As Resta’s tender, unflinching expression cuts through the screen, one truth rises into the heavens: those who can still make music feel like magic aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. And if this is what stepping into the spotlight looks like, the new era of “Guitar Men” might just have its torchbearer.