Oh, I am so pleased I've found this: I have had this song on my mind ever since my trip to New York. Called 27, it's by Swedish artist Tobias Bernstrup. The song and its accompanying video are part of the brilliant Monitor: Volume 1 exhibition at the Gagosian gallery in Chelsea. I watched it several times, transfixed.

27 is the supreme eighties tribute. Like Stephin Merritt fronting the Pet Shop Boys, it is a knowing pastiche yet innocent, passioned, impassive, dispassionate, passé, passive-agressive. "27, from a small town looking good, looking for some loving tonight. Come abuse me, I want one, maybe more boys, to take me out really hard. You can spoil me, you can buy me sexy clothes, and I will let you do anything." It is everything that made the eighties so bad, so brilliant: cheap synths, robotic voice, mangled English, erotic imagery, lipgloss and blusher.

To get the full experience, you really need the accompanying video - a computer-generated Resident Evil-style club scene. The artificial nature of the clubbing scene, all wobbly pixels and unreal characters, feels somehow correct and highly evocative of the era. I can't really explain why the song and video affected me so deeply. Perhaps it's because I was that smalltown boy looking for loving. Or perhaps it's because I'm seeing a guy from a small Swedish town. Or perhaps it's simply that I © the 80s. Either way, take a listen to the song, and if you live in New York, go see.