Executive Summary
This white paper addresses two related and persistent anomalies in popular music criticism surrounding Starship and their 1985 album No Protection:
Why “We Built This City” is routinely treated as one of the worst songs of the 1980s, despite not being the most artistically or thematically compromised song in Starship’s catalog—particularly when contrasted with Beat Patrol, which more explicitly panders to industry gatekeeping anxieties in a far less successful way. Why No Protection positions Starship as superior to contemporary radio balladeers, even though the album’s most enduring and musically effective tracks are precisely its ballads—especially Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now, Set the Night to Music, and On the Wings of a Lie.
The argument advanced here is that Starship’s reputational problem is not musical incompetence, but rhetorical misalignment—a collision between image, message, and institutional resentment that critics have resolved by scapegoating a single song.
I. The Curious Hatred of “We Built This City”
1. The Song as Cultural Lightning Rod
“We Built This City” has become shorthand for:
Corporate rock excess MTV-era artifice The perceived betrayal of San Francisco’s countercultural legacy
Yet musically and structurally, the song is:
Competently written Professionally produced Catchy and durable Far from uniquely cynical by 1985 standards
The degree of animus directed at it far exceeds its actual sins.
2. Misreading the Song’s Target
Critics often claim the song celebrates corporate takeover of rock culture. In fact, its lyrics are ambiguous to the point of incoherence, mixing:
Nostalgia for live music scenes Complaints about radio programmers Vague gestures toward artistic displacement
This ambiguity is not profundity—but it is not endorsement either.
Importantly, the song’s failure is not hypocrisy, but vagueness. It gestures at critique without fully committing.
II. Why “Beat Patrol” Is the Worse Offense
1. “Beat Patrol” as Failed Gatekeeper Rhetoric
“Beat Patrol,” the opening track on No Protection, is far more deserving of critical scrutiny than “We Built This City” because it:
Explicitly frames Starship as embattled truth-tellers Casts critics and programmers as enemies Attempts swagger without irony or nuance
Where “We Built This City” is muddled, “Beat Patrol” is doctrinaire.
It is a song that announces its grievance rather than dramatizing it—and in doing so, collapses into self-parody.
2. Why Critics Ignore “Beat Patrol”
Ironically, “Beat Patrol” escapes infamy because:
It was not a major single It did not dominate radio It did not become symbolic
Cultural condemnation tends to fixate on visibility, not severity.
“We Built This City” became a scapegoat because it was unavoidable.
III. The Second Paradox: Anti-Balladeer Posturing on a Ballad-Driven Album
1. Starship’s Claimed Superiority to Radio Ballads
No Protection contains moments that implicitly suggest Starship is:
More sophisticated than soft-rock competitors More “real” than faceless adult contemporary acts More legitimate than mere love-song merchants
Yet this posture collapses under inspection.
2. The Album’s Strongest Material Is the Ballads
The most enduring tracks are precisely those that embrace ballad conventions:
“Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” – emotionally direct, structurally strong, culturally resonant “Set the Night to Music” – melodic, sincere, and well-paced “On the Wings of a Lie” – understated and emotionally complex
These songs succeed because they:
Do not posture Do not sneer at the audience Do not claim moral or artistic superiority
They simply work.
3. The Institutional Mistake: Confusing Genre with Legitimacy
Starship’s error was not writing ballads—it was pretending that ballads required justification.
In the mid-1980s:
Ballads were the emotional core of pop radio Audiences trusted sincerity over attitude Claims of “authenticity” rang hollow when over-asserted
Starship’s ballads thrive precisely because they abandon the need to explain themselves.
IV. A Broader Institutional Pattern
This case illustrates a recurring cultural phenomenon:
Artists resent gatekeepers They write songs about gatekeepers The songs become more embarrassing than the gatekeepers themselves The artist’s strongest work lies elsewhere
Starship is far from unique—but they are unusually clear.
V. Conclusion: The Wrong Song on Trial
“We Built This City” is not hated because it is uniquely bad.
It is hated because it became symbolic.
Meanwhile:
“Beat Patrol” is a more sincere failure The album’s ballads are its artistic core Starship’s legacy suffers from misdirected critique
The deeper lesson is this:
Artists damage their reputation most when they argue for their legitimacy instead of demonstrating it.
Starship demonstrated it best when they stopped arguing—and started singing.
