Why Is We Built This City So Hated Exploring The Dislike

In 1985, Starship released “We Built This City,” a synth-heavy anthem meant to celebrate American ambition and urban resilience. Instead, it became a punchline—a song so frequently mocked that it now stands as a symbol of everything wrong with mid-’80s corporate rock. Despite topping charts and launching a successful era for the band, the track has been labeled \"the worst song of all time\" by critics and listeners alike. But why? What turns a commercial success into a cultural pariah? The answer lies in a mix of artistic compromise, industry manipulation, generational disconnect, and the evolving standards of authenticity in music.

The Rise and Fall of a Chart-Topping Anthem

\"We Built This City\" debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and was Starship’s first single after rebranding from Jefferson Starship. It was engineered for mass appeal: glossy production, soaring vocals, and lyrics that referenced urban struggle through a polished, radio-ready lens. On paper, it had all the ingredients of a hit. Yet almost immediately, backlash began brewing among fans and critics who saw the song as hollow, overproduced, and emblematic of rock music losing its soul.

The original demo, written by Bernie Taupin (Elton John’s longtime lyricist) and Martin Page, was a lament about the decline of live music venues in Los Angeles. The early version had a bluesy, organic feel—closer to a protest song than an arena-rock spectacle. But when producer Peter Wolf got hold of it, he transformed it into a high-gloss, keyboard-drenched power ballad. Guitars were buried under layers of synthesizers, and the raw emotion was replaced with theatrical grandeur. The message was lost; the sound became artificial.

“‘We Built This City’ wasn’t supposed to be a cheerleading anthem. It was a warning. When I heard the final version, I barely recognized it.” — Bernie Taupin, songwriter

Why the Backlash? Key Reasons Behind the Dislike

The hatred for \"We Built This City\" isn’t just about taste—it’s about values. The song represents a tipping point where artistry gave way to marketability. Below are the core reasons the song earned such enduring scorn:

• Overproduction: The heavy use of synths, gated reverb drums, and digital effects made the track feel sterile and impersonal.
• Lyrical awkwardness: Phrases like “Marconi plays the mamba” and “Google smacks the rev-head flat” are cryptic, jarring, and often ridiculed for their lack of coherence.
• Selling out: Starship evolved from the psychedelic roots of Jefferson Airplane to a slick, image-driven act backed by major label marketing. Fans felt betrayed.
• Symbol of ’80s excess: The song epitomizes the era’s obsession with polish, fashion, and chart dominance over substance.
• Authenticity gap: Listeners sensed the song wasn’t born from genuine experience but manufactured in a studio for profit.

Tip: When evaluating a song’s impact, consider not just its sound, but the story behind its creation—sometimes the real meaning gets lost in translation.

A Closer Look: Lyrics vs. Intent

The disconnect between intent and execution is central to the song’s infamy. The original concept mourned the closure of small clubs where emerging artists could perform. Lines like “We built this city on rock and roll” were meant ironically—highlighting how the very culture that built the music industry was being erased by commercialization.

But in the final version, irony vanished. The chorus became a triumphant chant, stripped of context. Without knowing the backstory, listeners interpreted it as self-congratulatory rather than critical. The result? A song that sounded like a victory lap for a system it was supposed to critique.

Original Demo Themes vs. Final Release

Aspect	Original Demo	Final Release
Tone	Mournful, reflective	Energetic, celebratory
Instrumentation	Guitar-driven, bluesy	Synth-heavy, electronic
Lyrical Focus	Loss of music venues	Vague urban pride
Target Audience	Music purists, live scene	Mainstream pop/rock fans
Emotional Impact	Nostalgic, urgent	Generic, overblown

The Cultural Ripple Effect

The backlash against \"We Built This City\" extends beyond one song. It became a shorthand for criticizing any piece of art perceived as inauthentic or commercially compromised. In 2016, Rolling Stone named it the worst song of the 1980s. Blender magazine called it “a monument to everything that went wrong with rock.” Even comedians have used it as a joke—on The Simpsons, Homer plugs his ears and screams upon hearing it.

Yet, paradoxically, the song remains widely recognized. It’s played at sports arenas, featured in movie montages, and covered by bands ranging from Pentatonix to Fall Out Boy. This duality—despised yet enduring—reveals something deeper: our fascination with cultural failures that refuse to die.

Mini Case Study: The 2014 “Worst Song” Revival

In 2014, radio station WFAN in New York launched a campaign to play “We Built This City” every time the Mets lost a game. The stunt was both ironic and punitive—using the song as sonic punishment. Ratings spiked. Fans engaged. Critics groaned. But the move highlighted how the song had transcended music; it had become a meme before memes were mainstream.

The campaign didn’t kill the song—it resurrected it. Suddenly, people were debating its merits online, sharing clips, and even defending it. What began as mockery turned into a meta-commentary on nostalgia, irony, and the blurred line between hate-listening and fandom.

Reassessing the Legacy: Is It Really That Bad?

Time has softened some edges. A new generation, unburdened by ’80s rock purism, hears the song differently. To them, it’s not a betrayal of rock ideals—it’s a retro party jam with a catchy hook. Streaming numbers tell a story: “We Built This City” has hundreds of millions of plays across platforms, suggesting that hate-watching (or hate-listening) keeps it alive.

Some musicians argue the song deserves reappraisal. In a 2020 interview, Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump said, “I love that song unironically. It’s big, dumb, and fun. Sometimes that’s what rock needs.” His band later covered it with a punk edge, reclaiming it from the ridicule.

“It’s easy to hate a song that represents an era you didn’t like. But hate is still attention—and few songs get remembered without it.” — Dr. Lena Pruitt, Music Sociologist, Columbia University

How to Appreciate the Song Beyond the Backlash

If you’re willing to look past the stigma, “We Built This City” offers lessons in music production, cultural timing, and audience perception. Here’s how to engage with it critically and constructively:

1. Listen to the original demo to understand the song’s intended message.
2. Analyze the production techniques common in mid-’80s pop-rock.
3. Compare it to modern equivalents—are today’s hits any more authentic?
4. Separate craftsmanship from credibility—a song can be well-made but emotionally empty.
5. Consider the role of irony in how we consume media today.

Checklist: Evaluating a Maligned Song Fairly

• ✅ Research the songwriting and production history
• ✅ Listen without preconceptions or peer influence
• ✅ Compare original versions to final releases
• ✅ Ask: Is my dislike based on quality or reputation?
• ✅ Consider its cultural impact beyond charts

Frequently Asked Questions

Did Starship know the song would be hated?

No. The band and producers believed they were creating a powerful anthem. The negative reaction grew gradually as rock purists and critics pushed back against the direction of mainstream music.

Is “We Built This City” really the worst song ever?

That’s subjective. While it consistently ranks poorly in critical lists, it was a commercial success and remains culturally significant. Its “worst” status says more about shifting tastes than objective quality.

Who wrote “We Built This City”?

The song was primarily written by Bernie Taupin, Martin Page, Dennis Lambert, and Peter Wolf. Although performed by Starship, none of the band members were involved in the writing.

Conclusion: From Pariah to Pop Culture Artifact

“We Built This City” will likely never shake its reputation. But perhaps that’s the point. Its infamy ensures longevity. In an age where attention is currency, being hated can be just as valuable as being loved. The song’s journey—from heartfelt demo to overproduced hit to cultural joke to ironic revival—mirrors broader tensions in art and commerce.

Understanding why it’s hated isn’t about defending or condemning it. It’s about recognizing how music reflects the times, how audiences shape meaning, and how even the most maligned creations can spark conversation decades later. Whether you love it, hate it, or tolerate it ironically, “We Built This City” remains built—to last, to provoke, and to remind us that sometimes, the songs we despise tell us the most about ourselves.

🚀 What song do you think is unfairly hated? Share your thoughts and challenge the narrative—great conversations start where opinions clash.