Paris, Brendan & Ryan
This venue started my career and pretty much my personality. Monkey and I didn’t ever think that me on a milk crate with a shitty sound system and my BYO mic would lead to such hype. I’ll never forget six months into our Friday nights I could hardly walk through the crowd to get to the DJ booth, ego aside I just wanted to sing with my mates, when I stood up on the crate the whole place screamed, Monk and I were dazzled.
I would ignore all singing teachers’ advice, pound a bottle of champagne and sing all night at the top of my lungs. I would pash skaters, hipsters and one time a gothic sex kitten. It was my/our version of freedom. Just a simple smoke friendly block party where Melbourne could be itself and everybody was nice to everybody. In Jerome’s words... ‘if you try to start a fight at St Jerome’s...then you just don’t get it’. I have not one bad memory of that place aside from the tear on my cheek when I walked past it recently and it was gone.