Izzy Skinner isn’t your typical jazz musician—she’s a genre-bending, boundary-pushing composer who’s managed to fuse the intimacy of classical forms with the spontaneity of improvisation. Born out of her time studying at the Victorian College of the Arts (University of Melbourne), and now continuing her academic pursuits in a master’s program at the Australian Institute of Music, Skinner’s trajectory has led her to a place where creative exploration is both a personal necessity and an artistic calling. Her newest release, Grey Ballet, which released on February 27, 2025, is a testament to that spirit of experimentation— from a bold eight-track album ‘Tangent’ that elegantly straddles multiple genres while staying rooted in her jazz and improvisation background.
For those familiar with Izzy’s previous work, Grey Ballet might feel like a logical extension of the direction she hinted at on her prior albums, including the aptly named Haunting. That record was described as an attempt to push the boundaries of genre, infusing vintage and rustic aesthetics to evoke a sense of otherworldly eclecticism. But while Haunting played with intangible atmospheres and subtle spectral textures, Grey Ballet goes a step further by embracing groove, melodic interplay, and raw emotional storytelling. The result is a body of work that feels tactile and vivid, yet still shimmers with the dreamy unpredictability that Izzy is known for.
The album opens with “Breakfast,” a track that exemplifies her unique approach to improvisation. The piece starts off lightly, with brushed percussion and a gentle piano motif that teases the promise of daybreak. Izzy’s training in jazz becomes evident in the spontaneous-sounding chord voicings, but just when you think you’ve got the tune pinned down, it spirals into a fluid interplay of horns and guitar. It’s as though the music itself is waking up, warming to the idea of possibility.
Up next is “Street Cat,” an ode to the hustle and bustle of urban life seen from a uniquely feline perspective. There’s an unpretentious quality to this piece—a cheeky swagger provided by a muted trumpet and a laid-back bass line. The arrangement is tight and polished, yet brimming with small improvisational flares. Listeners can practically picture a cat weaving through city streets, unhurried and unbothered by the frantic pace around it.
“Bad Day” highlights Izzy’s capacity for emotional nuance. This track is darker in tone, using a descending piano line as its anchor while the drums offer a stuttering beat that mimics frustration. It’s a moody slow-burner, showcasing a raw vulnerability that underscores the album’s theme of exploring life’s imperfections. Here, more than anywhere else, one can sense how Izzy has harnessed her jazz roots to convey tension and release through dynamic interplay. The horns, in particular, sound like they’re singing someone’s unspoken lament.
“Perpetualism,” the fourth track, stands as the conceptual center of Grey Ballet. Building on swirling chord patterns, the piece moves between gentle passages and bombastic crescendos, almost as if illustrating the cyclical nature of time and emotion. The interplay of saxophone and piano here is electric—one moment it’s a hushed conversation, the next it’s a rousing debate. In that sense, it mirrors the unpredictability that is central to Izzy’s overarching musical philosophy.
“Grey Ballet,” acts as both a creative and thematic pivot, bridging what came before with the musical explorations that follow. Ethereal strings intermingle with intricately layered percussion. There’s a sense of dance throughout—an illusion of bodies on a stage, moving in lockstep but always ready to break into individual improvisation. The piece ends in a gorgeous crescendo of voices and instruments, all rising in unison, only to recede again into a single, solitary note.
In “Lock It,” we find Izzy leaning more into her pop side. A catchy melody, punctuated by handclaps and a quietly insistent bass line, forms the backbone of this piece. But even as the track feels radio-friendly, you can sense the undercurrent of complexity. Izzy’s a writer of paradoxes: offering ease of entry while rewarding deeper listening.
She continues challenging expectations in “Grit Ya Teeth,” a spirited tune that’s the album’s rawest. Dynamic drumming and guitar lines practically wrestle each other, all while a commanding vocal track urges resilience against life’s onslaughts. It’s an anthem of perseverance—rough around the edges in the best way possible.
“Last Call” closes Grey Ballet in an emotional hush. Minimalistic keys, sparse percussion, and a gently crooned vocal line let the album exhale. It’s the lull after a storm, reminding the listener of the subtle power in simply coming to rest after great upheaval. The track’s open intervals and delicate harmonies reflect Izzy’s trust in the spaces between notes—something any good improviser knows to value.
In Grey Ballet, Izzy Skinner finds a balance between structure and spontaneity, complexity and directness. It’s a tapestry woven from threads of jazz improvisation, alt-pop charm, and freeform experimentation. If Haunting revealed Izzy’s desire to stretch the boundaries, then Grey Ballet cements her as an artist fully willing to dance across them. It’s not just an album; it’s a conversation—a testament to forging new paths without losing sight of the soulful vulnerabilities that make music transformative. Whether you’re a jazz aficionado, an indie explorer, or someone seeking a forward-thinking sonic journey, Grey Ballet is a record that invites you to discover the delicate dance within each note.
