Antonio González Batista was born in the Graçia neighborhood, Barcelona, in 1926 -- the son of a gypsy man who earned a living as a fisherman (hence the nickname "El Pescaílla," "The Young Hake"). Antonio used to help him while he carried out his trade, and at nights he also used to accompany him when he sang and played guitar at El Tablao de la Pava. Antonio would show his talent very early on. He learned the rules of the game soon and word quickly got around in Barcelona. Well into the 1940s, he was already king of the flamenco rumba. His sense of rhythm possesses the perfect cadence, sparkling and free. It's a rhythm that sprouts from tradition and would improve with the Cuban influence: son, mambo, guaguancó, chachachá, etc. His infinite skill at marking the cadence of the rhythmic beat became masterful. He seasoned his lyrical bitterness with succinct and measured strokes: some bongos here, rhythmic handclaps there, the precise guitar over there, some cajón drums -- and the voice: naked. The tone is proud, distinguished, tormented, with subtle cracks and runaway crescendos. At the dawn of the 1950s, Lola Flores sees young Antonio in Madrid and she gets him to sign a contract. Lola's myth is already huge, a giant monster that devours everything it finds in its way: men, audiences, songs, herself. Antonio decides to be a supporting actor rather than the lead. He becomes a mere guitarist to the outside world, accompanying the legend, father of her children, a discreet but solid support, and he withdraws more into himself. Films, tours, TV programs -- his role is always secondary. Every now and then, there is a spark of genius: a song on one of her records, a minor role on the screen, two or three rumbas in the middle of a show, a single or EP ever more infrequently. He decides to spend the last 20 years of his life as a recluse. In a genre that is wrongly considered to be just about fun, a mere tributary to something of more substance, it's always been counterproductive to remain silent. Even more so when a loud voice has often been the natural way to be heard. Only a few - the great ones, as it happens - chose silence as the only worthy attitude. Antonio González Batista took that path all his life. Includes key titles of the genre such as "Sarandonga", "Que Me Coma El Tigre," "Sabor A Mí" and "Extraños En La Noche" ("Strangers In The Night"). Several tracks feature vocal duets with Lola Flores.