Lincoln was already impressive and pleasing, straightforward in her delivery, moving toward something deeper.
When you put this record on, you're hearing a vocalist in deliberate transition. The arrangements by Benny Carter, Jack Montrose, and Marty Paich are clean and unhurried—standards given room to breathe, with Lincoln's voice floating above small groups of studio musicians who know exactly what they're doing but stay out of the way. The tempo is rarely rushed. There's warmth here, but also a kind of restraint, like she's testing the waters before committing fully.
Lincoln had been working as a lounge singer and potential sex symbol when these sessions happened. This album marks the moment she started asking to be taken seriously as a jazz interpreter. AllMusic reviewer Scott Yanow caught something essential in that shift: "Lincoln's straightforward delivery was already impressive and pleasing" even as she was moving toward the dramatic, socially conscious artist she would become. You can hear both sides on Abbey Lincoln's Affair... A Story of a Girl in Love (1957)—the polish and ease of a trained performer, but also the first signs of a deeper artistic vision waiting to emerge.
This is a solid debut, a professional one. It's not her peak work—that came later when she found her full voice and her political conscience—but it's the right place to hear where she started: a young vocalist with real skill, learning to trust her own instincts instead of just her looks.