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Boy bands come and go, but Justine Timberlake is here to stay.

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In 1999, nothing was chicer — or more contrived — than writing an anthem about the biggest New Year’s event EVER (or, since the late 19th century).

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You’re not naked with someone yet? Maybe this song will help. It’s kind of freaky, kinky, sexy. It will come on right when your New Year’s Eve drug of choice hits you or when you’re just about drunk enough to get weird on the dance floor by yourself.

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From the moment I emerged, bloody and screaming from my mother’s womb she resented me. Every time music would play my infant ears would perk up and my joints would become ridged, my tiny Michelin Man arms crunching back and forth in an adorable mechanical motion. My dad would say things like “my baby girl sure does pop a mean robot!” which only made my mother hate me more.