The Sound and The Fury

“Can I speak to you for a minute?” the police constable said, leaning in and projecting his voice over the sound of a packed bar. I glanced sideways at the other bartenders, under the pump on a heaving Saturday night in Fitzroy, Melbourne. 

“Sure,” I said, dropping my cloth onto the growing pile of unpolished glasses.

“We’ve had a noise complaint,” the cop told me.

It was an ongoing problem at the bar I used to manage on Brunswick Street in one of Melbourne’s primary entertainment districts. The folks next door, you see, had had a baby. And while I empathise with the lack of sleep new parents endure, we always operated well within our mandated trading hours and noise limits. And: We were there first.

In recent months there have been some well-publicised stories about hospitality operators being dragged through legal proceedings thanks to developers in high-density urban areas and relentless complaints from residents in suburbs with changing demographics. The headlines often frame these situations as David vs Goliath struggles between small business and developers, or between venues and residents. But the issues often run much deeper, and speak to the ongoing challenges of increased residential density in urban and suburban areas, the many pitfalls of operating independent hospitality enterprises, and the difficulties of maintaining cultural prosperity and a thriving nightlife in our cities – the very things that make them desirable places to live. 

The Night Cat in Fitzroy, Melbourne has been a linchpin in the live music scene for three decades. The venue, which sits just near the busy intersection of Brunswick and Johnston streets, has recently been embroiled in a series of legal battles with C&R Building Pty Ltd, a developer hoping to build apartments nearby. 

Along with a huge number of other nightclubs, bars, bandrooms and pubs in the area that host performances nightly, as well as the many other venues with 3 a.m. trading terms, the Night Cat is an integral part of what makes the Johnston Street strip that runs from Fitzroy through Collingwood and Abbotsford one of the most important live music districts in Australia, pumping millions into the local economy, employing hundreds, and drawing visitors from around the city and the world. 

Once considered “dodgy”, working class suburbs, Fitzroy and Collingwood have also experienced rapid and sustained growth in property value over recent years, a trend played out in other inner suburbs around Melbourne, and around Australia. And that, of course, brings developers. While hardly the most-loved enterprises in the land, these developers are the primary providers of housing supply, a desperately needed resource. In doing so, they’re also helping achieve state and local government goals around increasing the density of housing in inner-urban areas, policies that are designed to arrest Australia’s never-ending urban sprawl and its associated environmental, economic and social pitfalls.

Victoria’s “agent of change” laws, brought into effect in 2014 after the widely publicised fight to save Collingwood’s iconic hard rock venue The Tote, are designed to protect both venues and residents from encroaching on each other’s amenity and ability to operate. The idea is that whoever exists in an area first, be it resident, development or venue, has the right for their situation to remain unchanged. Any new venue or development that comes into the area is responsible for things like soundproofing, and is barred from bringing complaints against existing businesses that are operating lawfully. It’s basically the “I was here first” rule. 

In the case of The Night Cat, the venue claims the complaints brought against them by the developer in question flout this principle. “What we have is a developer acting as a de facto statutory body, penalising live music venues for their own purposes so they can build towers for millionaires,” says The Night Cat’s owner Justin Standford. 

Mayor of Yarra City (the local council that includes Fitzroy) Stephen Jolly, tends to agree. “It’s a real shame [The Night Cat] has had to go through all this, pay all the legal fees, just to keep doing what they’ve been doing for years,” he says. “If you don’t like live music, it’s a bad idea to buy or rent close to a nightclub, no one’s forcing you to do it. All of these venues are employing young people; roadies, security, bar staff; it’s a thriving industry. What’s to be gained by closing them down?” Jolly says. 

On the other side, a letter sent to The Night Cat in March by lawyers acting on behalf of C&R Building Pty Ltd claims that The Night Cat has been operating in “gross breach” of its planning permit by exceeding their legally mandated noise emission levels, and that, “it would appear that you [The Night Cat]  have been operating in breach of your permit for some time, and with full knowledge that you are breaching your permit.” The complaint was dropped in late August, with both sides claiming victory after The Night Cat raised $75,000 through a GoFundMe campaign to upgrade soundproofing and conduct independent noise assessments. 

In Fitzroy, The Night Cat was there first, but in a parallel situation on the other side of town, the venue is the newcomer. Holmes Hall is a casual modern pub, bright and airy, with families chatting over bowls of chips as their kids play on the floor on a recent weekday afternoon. Unlike The Night Cat, with its 3 a.m. licence and powerful sound system, Holmes Hall is thoroughly innocuous by Fitzroy standards. But we’re not in Fitzroy. 

Holmes Hall opened a few years ago in a building that was formerly a supermarket, the first proper hospitality venture in this largely residential area of Moonee Ponds. A couple of neighbours were not amused, and since then the venue has been subject to literally hundreds of complaints from two nearby locals in particular.  Others in the area seem pretty happy to have a pub here, as evidenced by the nearly 200 supportive comments from local residents and regulars on a June social media post from the venue about the ongoing complaints. 

Standing on the street outside, it’s hard not to notice the roar of bus engines as they pull away from the stop out front, the clanging of the warning signal at the level train crossing just meters away, the wail of ambulance sirens as they speed down this major suburban arterial road. The music and chatter coming from inside Holmes Hall barely registers. Still, some folks just don’t want to share their neighbourhood with a pub, and in this instance, the residents were here first. “We’ve received hundreds of complaints,” says co-owner Dave Bartl. “We’ve proven again and again over the last five years that we’re doing the right thing,” he says, “but the council has told us that when a complaint is made, they’re obliged to respond, so we’re having to prove our innocence as opposed to them proving our guilt. The system is broken because the onus is on us to constantly justify our existence.”

Holmes Hall is a particularly prescient example of what happens when a neighbourhood changes. As an outsider, the venue appears like a bright spot on this block of unremarkable commercial road it shares with a nail salon and a locksmith. But that’s obviously not how everyone sees it. So what’s to be done?

After copping a lot of negative press due to the lockout laws introduced in 2019, Sydney is now leading the nation in its efforts to revive nightlife and support live music. Appointed in 2021, Michael Rodrigues is New South Wales's first ever 24-Hour Economy Commissioner, tasked with fostering flexible trading, a vibrant nightlife, and economic activity beyond traditional business hours. Rodrigues works with law enforcement and health agencies, local councils, and supports businesses in navigating the challenges and opportunities inherent in a thriving nighttime economy. “We have to make a distinction between ‘noise’ which is a kind of pollution, and ‘sound,’ which represents vibrancy, activity, safety; all the things we want from our urban areas,” he says.

The problems like the ones detailed above are not unique to Melbourne, or Australia, Rodrigues says. “Noise complaints and sound management afflict every city around the world,” he says. “A couple of years ago we consulted with cities in other counties and worked out that we need a multifaceted approach that ultimately balances the interests of businesses and residents, with certainty for both,” he says. “What doesn’t work is when no one knows what’s happening, when there are multiple conflicting processes and a lack of education for both businesses and residents.”

According to Rodrigues, the regulatory landscape back in 2021 was severely lacking in that certainty, with seven different agencies through which residents make complaints against businesses. “The residents didn’t know who to call, and businesses could be contacted by multiple agencies for the same issue,” he says. Many small business owners will recognise this lack of regulatory clarity. The reforms brought into the state since then include a simplified process of noise complaints, all funneled through Liquor & Gaming NSW, which, according to Rodrigues, has seen a dramatic reduction in complaints. 

One of the more important features of Rodrigues’s remit is that his department is the only state-based office for 24-hour economy in Australia, falling within the NSW Department of Creative Industries, Tourism, Hospitality and Sport. It’s a key difference in approach because it affords both access to substantial state budgetary funding, and because many planning rules and licensing regulations are managed at the state level, allowing the department to suggest changes to law and implement policies at scale. 

“We’re supporting local councils to set up special entertainment precincts,” says Rodriguez, “and to work out what’s best for that specific community, so it’s not a one size fits all approach.” And while the precincts need to be approved at the state level, “our office has a team that can assist the councils through the process to help them get approval,” he says. There’s much more to be done, Rodriguez notes, from helping businesses understand their responsibilities to improving access to mediation when complaints arise, but NSW is certainly making progress. 

Back in Fitzroy, Mayor Jolly is attempting to strengthen the rules that protect live music locally. “We’ve started the process of changing the planning rules for music venues in Yarra,” he says. “We’re applying to bring in new entertainment precincts, and if you have a venue within those areas, you have enshrined ‘agent of change’ protection. At the moment, clearly, the state legislation isn’t strong enough.” Jolly also wants to encourage the live music economy through increased council-backed activity. “We’re currently in consultation with all the venues along the strip to bring back the Brunswick Street Festival,” he says. “It’s another way of supporting live music and bringing people to the area.”

While councils and individual communities are doing what they can to support live music and thriving nightlife, it’s clear more can be done at the state level to cut red tape and improve certainty for venues, residents, developers and regulators alike. Because, as Rodriguez notes, “ Cities are not libraries. And you know what sells apartments? Great nightlife.”