Music Room — Melbourne’s Walnut-Lined Heartbeat
By Rafi Mercer
New Listing
Venue Name: Music Room
Address: Level 3, 270 Lonsdale Street, Melbourne, VIC 3000, Australia.
Website: her.melbourne/musicroom
Instagram: @musicroom_melbourne
There is a point in central Melbourne where the street becomes too much. Lonsdale’s traffic, retail rush and constant city chatter press against you, and then you step into HER — the multilevel building that has become one of the city’s cultural landmarks. The lift takes you to Level 3, and when the doors open, you enter something altogether calmer. Music Room is walnut-lined and dimly lit, a listening bar that believes in detail, in depth, in the geometry of sound. It is Melbourne’s most refined contribution to the new global culture of hi-fi bars, and it has quickly earned its place as a heartbeat for the city’s nights.
The proportions are immediate. The ceiling is low enough to gather warmth, the timber walls soften reflections, the seating orients towards the booth where selectors work with records like sculptors. The bar stretches along one side, glowing softly, its surface clear of clutter. It feels both intimate and open, a room that respects the ear first and the eye second. Records line the shelves, some visible, many hidden, the promise of a collection that can surprise as much as it can reassure.
The sound is what you remember. Carefully chosen components, integrated into the room, create a field that is immersive without being invasive. Bass arrives with shape, not pressure. Midrange carries weight, so that a voice or horn line lands with body, not thinness. Highs extend without glare, cymbals shimmering into darkness. It is sound you can sit with for hours without fatigue. That quality is what separates Music Room from other Melbourne nightspots: here, the system is not entertainment but architecture.
Selectors move through moods with confidence. Early in the evening, you may hear spiritual jazz or Brazilian folk, records that open the room like a window. Later, the dial shifts into disco, Balearic or house, grooves that make bodies loosen without pushing anyone to shout. The point is not to dance or to drink — though you might do both — but to inhabit sound. Every evening has a shape, a story told in records, and the crowd responds with quiet respect. Conversations fall into rhythm, pauses extend, glances are shared across tables when a track lands just right.
The drinks mirror the sound. Cocktails are sharp, seasonal, delivered without fuss. The whisky shelf is curated with the same care as the vinyl, each pour offered as an accompaniment to the evening. Nothing is rushed; the bar team moves at the same tempo as the selectors. You notice how your own body begins to adjust — shoulders loosen, breath deepens, ears sharpen.
In a city that prizes its nightlife, Music Room has carved something distinctive: not a club, not a restaurant, not a lounge, but a chamber where music leads and everything else follows. Its success lies in balance. It is serious without being austere, stylish without being shallow, and social without being chaotic. In a way, it feels like the room Melbourne has been waiting for, a space that recognises how deeply the city listens.
Step out again into the night, and the contrast is sharp. The city rushes, the street clamours, but you carry something with you: the sound of a record properly heard, the memory of a drink aligned to that mood, the sense that for an hour or two, the city tuned itself to fidelity. That is the gift of Music Room, and it is one worth returning for again and again.
Rafi Mercer writes about the spaces where music matters. For more stories from Tracks & Tales, subscribe, or click here to read more.
