Barron's presence anchors the album, letting Lincoln breathe without stepping on her phrasing.
It's easy to listen to It's Me (2003) and hear only Abbey Lincoln's voice, which is precisely the point. But the album holds together because Kenny Barron plays piano like someone who understands that accompaniment is not invisibility—it's restraint. Recorded over three days in late November 2002, the session paired Lincoln with a working band: James Spaulding on alto saxophone, Julien Lourau on tenor, Ray Drummond on bass, and Jaz Sawyer on drums. What makes these tracks breathe is Barron's refusal to fill space. He comps around Lincoln's lines, suggests harmonic colors without announcing them, and when he solos—particularly on Cedar Walton's "The Maestro"—his playing has the same intelligence and economy as Lincoln's vocals. He doesn't compete with her; he listens.
Seven tracks were later overdubbed with orchestral arrangements, but the core of the album lives in these smaller-group settings, where Barron's decisions matter most. He's been a sideman for decades by this point, and it shows in his confidence to do less. AllMusic reviewer Robert L. Doerschuk noted that Lincoln "maintains a sophisticated and intimate tunefulness," and that intimate quality depends almost entirely on the musicians around her choosing not to overwhelm. Barron gets that. The Penguin Guide to Jazz highlighted his "genius" on "The Maestro" specifically because it sits alongside Lincoln's gift as a lyricist without overshadowing it. Late-career Lincoln doesn't need a piano player who wants to be heard. She needs one who knows how to disappear into the song.