Of course, the police department won't say they shut down the club where the R & B brouhaha occurred—W.i.P. (or "Work In Progress")—explicitly because of the fight, but the reasons remain undisclosed by the department and unclear to anyone who will talk:

The department’s chief spokesman, Paul J. Browne, said in a statement that W.i.P., as well as a club above it, Greenhouse, was "closed as a result of several violations in a stipulation agreement that was made by the owners and the N.Y.P.D." A sergeant in the police press office said on Sunday that he was unaware of what those violations were or of the details of the earlier stipulation agreement.

Emphasis ours. They also, for what it's worth, arrested the club's manager for "outstanding warrants." Like the NYPD's shutdown of the club, none of the violations the club's manager was arrested for were made clear. In fact, the only public, civic action explicitly tied to the club's fight that's been made public?

A politician's pithy attempt to capitalize on it:

City Council Speak Christine Quinn released a statement today announcing an emergency meeting between her office, the NYPD and the Nightlife Association. "I am deeply concerned by reports of the bottle throwing melee that injured more than five people in SoHo this week," Quinn said. The speaker said she wanted "to send a clear message to all nightclub patrons that bottles cannot be used as weapons and to determine if the guidelines surrounding bottle service need to be updated or reworked."

It may be worth noting that the three main characters in this fight aren't white. Why?

They stand in stark opposition to those involved in the fight at Meatpacking District club Double Seven just four months ago that involved (of course) attractive women, and the belligerent chest-beating drunks courting them, who got into fights attempting to win their hands. The stars of that one were a prince of Monaco (who also happens to be Grace Kelley's grandson), a nightlife owner, Paris Hilton's ex-boyfriend, a bunch of models, and some moneyed downtown hipsters, all slugging away at each other.

Like the W.i.P. fight, people landed in the hospital, a jaw was broken, and (of course) bottle service was involved.

But unlike the W.i.P. fight, Double Service remains in operation today, and no manager was arrested.

Furthermore, it didn't inspire any calls to action by New York's political class. It was brilliant local tabloid fodder, but unlike the Drake and Chris Brown fight, didn't quite make the national papers. To be fair, it's not like the NYPD or Christine Quinn didn't have any reason to look into W.i.P. prior to this.* It's just surprising that they didn't, at least given the lesser threshold required.

After all, W.i.P.'s creative director Stuart Braunstein quit not three weeks ago after the suicide of artist Adam Grant, prior to which, his work—a $40,000 sculpture on display for viewing in the club—was destroyed, and the club was uninsured for such a thing. W.i.P. was given clearance by the local community board to open in part to its dedication to the idea of itself as a gallery. So why wouldn't they be insured like one? And how was that never looked into? Of course, when confronted with a report on Braunstein's departure from the club, W.i.P. fired back that Braunstein was (as sources told BlackBook) involved in a physical altercation with a female employee, something that (if true) never caught the attention of any city officials, either.

It might be worth mentioning here that Greenhouse—the club above W.i.P. which shares a building and some ownership—was the site of a fatal shooting in 2010, which makes that time they were accused of a racist door policy look like a small nitpick. Barry Mullineaux—an owner of W.i.P.— previously had his massively popular Chelsea nightclub Stereo shut down for good after a shooting in 2008.

To recap:

Shootings, accusations of a racist door policy, destroyed art, and accusations of management/employee physical altercations couldn't raise any serious red flags, cause a club to close (let alone act as serious impediments to one opening), or yield the attention of a local politico. A fight resembling the one at W.i.P.—except with all caucasian men, who didn't happen to be pop stars—didn't result in a club's subsequent NYPD-assisted closure, or get a City Councilwoman to climb atop a soapbox.

But after all of that, one fight between two pop stars over another one—none of whom were white—did. And now we know!

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek

[*In the interest of full disclosure, we should maybe mention the fact that the New York Observer had their holiday party this year. To the best of this writer's knowledge, amazingly, no bottles were thrown.]

"Our product and what we bring to the table we feel is extremely valuable and we feel like we’re the only ones doing it, even though there are other people in the business, just like there are other basketball players who are incredible," Mr. Satsky told the Daily Transom last week.

The swanky 7,000-square-foot party spot, which had Lauren Conrad of MTV's The Hills helicoptered in for a photo op last summer, opened for its sophomore season over Memorial Day weekend, with fashionable New York Rangers forward Sean Avery reportedly manning the door on Saturday night, May 23.

Despite a sluggish world economic situation that has even the preferred summer playground of the rich and famous feeling the pinch, Mr. Satsky tried to sound optimistic about the uncertain season ahead.

"I feel this summer could be even better than last summer," he boldly predicted. "It could be something very advantageous to us, the recession. A lot of people that go to Europe may not go to Europe this year. So maybe they'll go to the Hamptons and that's where they're going to spend their extra dollars."

What's new at Lily Pond this summer? "Here's what's new—overall, nothing," Mr. Satsky admitted. Just a few tweaks. "The sound is upgraded, the seating is upgraded, the cabanas are upgraded," he said.

Heck, even the cocktail waitresses are upgraded. "My waitresses are hands-down the most beautiful waitress staff in the Hamptons," he boasted. "I handpicked them myself! And they go through a rigorous routine to do so," he added, laughing. "That's the cherry on top! They're fire."

Mr. Satsky, 31, can aggrandize with the best of them, his penchant for promotion proven by a plethora of Page Six mentions, dating back to his days at Stereo, the now-defunct West Chelsea spot he once dubbed the "Yankee Stadium for DJs."

Popular with celebrities, as well as police, Stereo unceremoniously closed in January 2008, with Mr. Satsky and his former business partner at the club, Barry Mullineaux, each going their separate ways.

Yet, its legacy lives on, if only in Mr. Satsky's vision for the future.

"When I opened Stereo in 2005, it was such a different type of venue because our music program, the West Coast style of hip-hop mixed with rock 'n' roll, was not really something that was played in the clubs regularly," Mr. Satsky said.

"The DJ AM–style of deejaying," he went on, referring to the renowned turntablist Adam Goldstein, "was not considered normal for New York City. It was the Mark Ronson era. He was the greatest and the godfather. Mark Ronson would play a record and then he would go into another record and his timing and execution was impeccable. That was the standard in New York City. Then AM came in and did this whole mash-up, scratching situation, and at Stereo, that's what we showcased every second of every night. And then every other venue bit that formula. And now all the venues today still use that formula."

Mr. Satsky said he is aiming to set an entirely new standard, à la Stereo, in September, when his newest Manhattan nightspot opens in the meatpacking district.

"Breaking ground?" asked Elon Kenchington, general manager at the Hotel Gansevoort, where Mr. Satsky was chatting with the Daily Transom one recent afternoon.

For the record, Mr. Satsky declined to get into the specific location or concept, stating only in soaring terms, "It's going to change the direction of nightlife in New York City and bring a real different flavor to the United States."

Another guy trying to change the direction of nightlife in the city is Mr. Satsky's former partner at Stereo, Mr. Mullineaux, who joined up with fellow impresario Jon Bakhshi, a.k.a. Jon B., in launching the eco-friendly themed Greenhouse nightclub in Soho last year with the stated aim of transforming the ever-wasteful hospitality industry.

Mr. Satsky, though, seemed unimpressed by his ex-associate's latest effort.

"I think that it's kind of cookie-cutter," Mr. Satsky said of Greenhouse. "They're not really looking to make a difference," he went on, rattling off a list of Mr. Bakhski's other venues, "Home, Guest House, Mr. West, Greenhouse—it's the same thing."

He added, "I don't know one person that goes there. Not one."

Naturally, Mr. Mullineaux took issue with his estranged contemporary's critique.

"Everybody goes to Greenhouse," countered Mr. Mullineaux. "It's much different than Home or Guest House, contrary to what Mike said. We're one of the only clubs in the city open seven nights a week. We do a variety of everything. Monday nights, we do all rock 'n' roll, live music acts; Friday nights, we do European house music; Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have the hip-hop and rock 'n' roll mash-ups. I bring in a lot of the old Stereo crowd in on those nights. It's a good mix."

Mr. Mullineaux suggested his former friend and colleague was still "bitter" over Stereo's shuttering. (The two haven't spoken in about a year, he said.)

"He had no say in anything," Mr. Mullineaux said, noting that Mr. Satsky was originally brought in as promotional director at Stereo, having no real ownership or equity interest in the actual business. "I had no choice but to side with the investors," Mr. Mullineaux said. "I couldn't side with him and he took it personally."

Mr. Satsky pointed out that he did own trademark rights to the Stereo brand and added that he invested in the defunct club's initial renovation. He also took credit for establishing the venue's celebrity cred. "All the high-profile guests that were there were my friends," he said.

In the aftermath of Stereo's demise, Mr. Satsky has needed to adjust his business model to better suit the way of life in far-flung East Hampton, specifically to make up for what he described as a serious supermodel gap. "We're not living in New York City, where, in a 10-block radius, there are, say, 30 supermodels," he noted. "A lot of that background beauty is not fully available in East Hampton. So, you know, we do what we can to bring in our friends from New York City."

It has been challenging, to say the least.

"Every day at Lily Pond is a miracle," Mr. Satsky told the Daily Transom. "Every one of my friends in the business urged me, 'Do not do this. Nobody's in East Hampton. You have no one to choose from. Everyone's in the south. You only have families in the east. You have some big hitters in the east, but nothing that's going to make enough camaraderie to make it successful.' I really went out on a limb to do something in East Hampton. The space, for eight years, has been tried and failed, tried and failed. We gave it our all and every day is a miracle."