You’re Certain to Find Us in the Club at This New Luxe Melbourne Hotel

IN MY MISSPENT YOUTH, before I became a serious investigative journalist, I worked in the music business. Specifically, I worked on the type of music you hear in clubs — which, in the late 1990s, as now, tended to be electronic dance music and hip-hop.  

My job was to suss out what sort of tunes were moving feet in clubland, license and sign artists I felt had a chance of success, and promote that material to media and DJs. This involved me going out to festivals, gigs and nightclubs rather a lot, several times a week usually. I was in my twenties, and I loved it.  

I was in the office nine to five, and on the tiles ten to three. I didn’t make much money, but in my role, you were allowed to claim all manner of entertainment expenses, no receipts required, so partying was essentially sponsored. Oh, what a time to be alive! 

As the people running the record label I worked for were all ageing rock dogs, they were very understanding of my nocturnal habits and the resulting weekday hangovers. That was standard practice in record companies back then — in fact, it was frowned upon if you weren’t out there on the regular, keeping a finger on the pulse. Heaven forbid, you might miss the next big thing — like the A&R guy who infamously rejected the Beatles because “guitar bands are passé”.  

The company I worked for was based in Sydney, Australia’s most populous city, but Melbourne was an even bigger market for the type of music I was trafficking. Different sounds worked down south of the border, too; many Melbournians liked more sophisticated, progressive fare than the straight-ahead beats and breaks Sydney favoured.  

That meant I had to visit Melbourne every couple of months, maintain relationships with club and radio DJs, gladhand the local music media, and of course, check out the clubs to see what partygoers were responding to. I had a platinum hit with a tune called “Silence” by Delerium, which I put out after witnessing the Fade remix of the track cause ecstatic hysteria on Melbourne dancefloors. It was huge. Ditto “Free” by Ultra Nate, which I picked up on after seeing it do brisk trade on Sydney’s sweatiest LGBTQ dancefloors. 

Fast-forward 20-plus years, and you’ll very rarely find me in the club. Maybe I’ll venture out if there’s something special, like seeing the original superstar DJ, Sasha, playing in a tiny room to 200 people (a grail experience I had early in 2023), or someone like silky drum’n’bass maestro LTJ Bukem is coming to town (a great memory from the waning days of last year). But a club lounge? That, I find attractive.  

I’d long heard that few five-star hotel operators offer a club lounge on a par with The Ritz-Carlton’s. So I was intrigued when I was invited back to my old clubbing stomping ground of Melbourne to visit the city’s new Ritz and check out the club-level offering.   

Now, I’ve been high in clubs before, but never 79 stories high. It’s at this stratospheric height that Melbourne’s Ritz-Carlton has situated its club lounge, which enjoys panoramic views across the city of Melbourne and its surrounds. This gives the staff here the unique opportunity to literally point out, with their index fingers, the provenance of the produce used in the culinary offering at the club, the work of chef Michael Greenlaw.  

“The local line-caught flathead on the bone, with caviar beurre blanc you’re enjoying right now? That comes from the ocean out there,” explained club manager Lucas Barrow, gesturing towards a particular patch of the sea. “Next, we’ll be serving a Gippsland Jersey crème brulee with brunt orange. That’s Gippsland, where the sun’s breaking through the clouds in the distance.” 

The culinary selection here is extraordinary, with club guests free to enjoy five meals over the course of the day: breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, sundown hors d’oeuvres and evening desserts. Most everything is made fresh to order — you certainly will not see a stainless-steel bain-marie filled with gloopy noodles or miserable chicken chasseur. Instead, the delightful staff will ask after your mood and tastes, bringing something special if the standard fare isn’t going to hit the spot. (I asked for a club sandwich and whisky during the dessert slot. No problem.) 

The young me would’ve gotten in a lot of trouble at a club like The Ritz-Carlton Melbourne’s, where virtually around the clock, guests are treated to a free flow of complimentary wines, cocktails and aperitifs. We’re talking good stuff, too, much of it from Victoria — even the bitter red liqueur served in negronis here is a local Melbourne variant, Saint Felix. This place is the antithesis of those parsimonious club lounges where you’re given a choice of two bottom-shelf wines (“Red or white, mister?”) for a period of 90 minutes each day. It’s a club where you’re tempted to while away loooong hours — and are welcome to, with dedicated spaces for working, meetings and private Zoom calls. Or simply eating and drinking.  

Of course, you’ll want to explore more of the property than just the club. The 64th-floor indoor pool is spectacular, and the spa on the same level is one of the best this reporter has visited recently. Chef Greenlaw’s Atria restaurant recently received a much deserved ‘One Hat’ rating from The Age newspaper’s Good Food Guide (essentially, Australia’s Michelin equivalent), and the hotel’s halls feature outstanding artwork from leading Melbourne artists including Reko Rennie and Ash Keating.  

The property’s Collins Street address means many of the city’s myriad culinary, mixology, caffeinated and cultural attractions are just a short stroll or tram-ride away. I recommend walking, as the Melbourne CBD is full of fascinating discoveries. Peek down any alley and amidst copious street art, you might discover a cool little fashion boutique, private gallery, artisanal providore, wine shop, barber, vintage clothing store, excellent café or eaterie.  

When I suggested meeting up for a drink somewhere near the Ritz, an old friend from my music industry days, a prominent ‘urban entertainment’ journalist, recommended we have a cocktail or two at the bar of the new W Hotel. There’s a nightclubby atmosphere at most W properties, so the aesthetic was familiar, but the tone had dialed right back from our carousing days of a decade or two ago.  

It wasn’t a late night, as we both had responsibilities the following day, mine meeting a writing deadline, my friend’s involving an early-morning footy run with his son. He spoke of being the only neighbourhood ‘soccer dad’ with face tatts — not that that phases anyone in this post-Post Malone era. “My boy can’t believe it when I tell him I used to hang out with Puffy and J-Lo,” he sighed. “I still have the signature cologne Diddy gave me. It was terrible.” 

The next afternoon as I headed out to visit the nearby National Gallery of Victoria (highly recommended), I remarked to club manager Lucas that despite being born in Melbourne, I’d not stayed there long enough to develop an allegiance to an Australian Rules Football team. He asked where I’d lived as an infant, and I told him the suburb of South Yarra.  

Returning to my room later that day, I found on the coffee table a check scarf in the colours of brown and mustard yellow, with the head of a bird embroidered on it. “Dear Christian, it gives me great pleasure to welcome you to the Hawthorn Hawks Supporters Club,” the accompanying hand-written card read. “Glad to have you on board! Regards, Lucas.” It was an incredibly thoughtful touch. I may not have enjoyed a whole lot of sybaritic nightlife on this visit to Melbourne, but I felt more part of the club than ever before. 

www.ritzcarlton.com/en/hotels/melrz-the-ritz-carlton-melbourne

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Images courtesy of Ritz-Carlton Melbourne.

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