Nothing’s Gonna Stop This Song

How an 80s movie anthem followed me into adulthood and taught me something about timing, sincerity, and sticking around

Some songs sneak into your life quietly. You don’t realize how deeply they’ve settled in until years later, when they resurface with a kind of emotional clarity you didn’t expect. “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” by Starship is one of those songs for me.

It started as background noise from an 80s movie I barely remembered. But decades later, it showed up in the middle of a Memphis afternoon and hit me like a time capsule I hadn’t opened.

The Moment It Came Back to Life

Lina and I were in Memphis celebrating our birthdays (my birthday month). She had found a deal for $49 each way on Southwest Airlines a few months back, right before they changed their bag policy. She said, “Why don’t we go to Memphis for our birthdays?” and for that price, it was a no brainer. The last time we had gone was in May 2020 (coincidentally for our birthdays), during the thick of Covid, and it had a completely different energy. This trip felt lighter. We were overdue for a little joy.

While sitting at Ghost River Brewing on Beale Street, soaking in the city, “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” came on in the background. Part of an 80s playlist, it slipped into the moment so effortlessly that we both stopped mid conversation. We smiled at each other and said something like, “Why can’t I stop singing this song?”

It immediately brought us back to a conversation we’d had a few years earlier, where we realized we both somehow knew every word to the song. Not because we studied the lyrics or tried to learn them. It was just there, tucked away from the era of VHS tapes and late-night HBO. That moment in Memphis reminded us that it had become one of our songs.

It Felt Cheesy Then, It Feels Perfect Now

When it first came out in 1987, I thought the song was a little cheesy. The glossy production, the dramatic duet, the swelling chorus, it all felt like a commercial for something overly optimistic. As a teenager, it didn’t hit me. It played in the background of Mannequin, a movie that had its charm but never really stuck.

But now, with a little more life behind me, I hear it differently. What once felt overly sentimental now feels sincere. What I thought was polish now reads as boldness. And that key change near the end? That’s not just musical sugar. That’s an emotional lift, the kind that makes you feel like things really could work out.

From Background to Set List

After that afternoon in Memphis, I knew I had to add the song to my acoustic set and open mic rotation. I already know most of it without trying and had already been contemplating it. The only thing I may need to do is lower the key as Mickey Thomas and Grace Slick were aiming high, literally.

From a musical perspective, the song is simple in all the right ways. Built on a classic 1–6–4–5 progression, with a few borrowed chords and a well-placed bridge, it’s accessible and solid. And just when it risks getting repetitive, it shifts. That final modulation gives it one last burst of energy. It’s a reminder that a small change in tone can make everything feel brand new.

Built to Stick (Even if You Didn’t Mean to)

The song wasn’t even written by the band. It came from Diane Warren and Albert Hammond. Hammond has said the inspiration came from the feeling of marrying his partner, that “us against the world” kind of energy. That optimism poured into the lyrics and melody, and Warren knew how to make it shine.

In the 80s, record labels started pushing veteran bands like Starship, Heart, and Chicago to work with outside writers. For some fans, that felt like selling out. But it worked. Starship landed their first and only number one hit, and Grace Slick became the oldest woman at that time—47—to top the Billboard Hot 100. That’s a powerful lesson in what happens when legacy meets reinvention.

Takeaways for Creatives and Entrepreneurs

There are lessons here for anyone building something meaningful.

Let your work live. The song didn’t hit me as a teenager, but it sure landed years later. Sometimes your art needs time to find the right audience or the right moment.

Don’t fear reinvention. Starship went through multiple names and styles before hitting their commercial peak. Reinvention doesn’t mean losing your essence. It means staying open to change.

Make them feel something. The staying power of this song isn’t in its complexity. It’s in its emotion. If you can make people feel something real, they will remember you.

A shift can be everything. That key change isn’t just good songwriting. It’s a creative strategy. When things start to feel flat, change your energy. Modulate. Take the risk.

Cheesy ages well. Sincerity will always outlast cynicism. What feels over the top today might be exactly what someone needs tomorrow.

Nothing’s Gonna Stop It Now

What I love most is how this song didn’t just come back into my life. It came back better. It came back at the right time, in the right city, with the right person. That’s what makes it worth sharing.

Some songs live in the background until they suddenly don’t. And sometimes the thing you made years ago, the thing you thought was just “pretty good,” becomes the exact thing someone needs later on.

That’s how this song found me again. It didn’t need a spotlight. It just needed the right setting.

Over to You

What’s a song from a movie soundtrack that ended up meaning more to you than the movie itself? Maybe it became part of your story when you weren’t even paying attention. Share the song, the film, and the moment it found you.

Because sometimes the music we forget becomes the melody that follows us into the next chapter.

And as always, EVERY day is a celebration. Especially when a $49 flight, a few shared memories, and an 80s anthem remind you just how good the journey has been.

Astro Joe Garcia