🔗 Share this article

Back when I was 10, I discovered a story in my hometown newspaper about the Air Guitar World Championships, which take place every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My parents had participated at the inaugural contest since 1996 – mom distributed flyers, my dad managed the music. Ever since, domestic competitions have been held globally, with the winners converging in Oulu each August.

At the time, I asked my parents if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the event was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They felt it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was determined.

As a kid, I was always miming air guitar, acting out to the iconic rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. My family were enthusiasts – my dad loved The Boss and U2. the band AC/DC was the first band I stumbled upon myself. the lead guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my idol.

When I stepped on stage, I did my routine to the band's that classic track. The spectators started chanting “Angus”, similar to the album track, and it struck me: so this is to be a rock star. I reached the championship, playing to hundreds of people in the public plaza, and I was addicted. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a referee one year, and kicked off the show another time, but I didn’t compete. I returned at 18, tried a few different stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I embraced it and choose “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve reached the finals every year since 2022, and in 2023 I came second, so I was resolved to claim victory this year.

The air guitar community is like a support system. Our guiding principle is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy.

The competition itself is competitive but uplifting. Contestants have one minute to give everything – high-powered performance, precise mimicry, rock star charisma – on an imaginary instrument. Judges score you on a grading system from a specific numeric range. If scores are equal, there’s an “air-off” between the final two contestants: a track is selected and you improvise.

Getting ready is key. I chose an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my routine. I listened to it on a loop for a long time. I stretched constantly, trying to get my lower body prepared enough to leap, my fingers quick enough to copy riffs and my spine set for those moves and leaps. Once the event came, I could feel the song in my being.

Once all acts were done, the points were announced, and I had drawn with the Japanese champion, the Japanese titleholder – it was moment for an air-off. We competed directly to that classic rock anthem by the iconic band. Once the track began, I felt relieved because it was a tune I recognized, and more than anything I was so eager to play again. When they announced I’d won, the area erupted.

My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from surprise. Then everyone started chanting the classic tune that well-known track and raised me up on to their backs. A former champion – alias his stage name – a previous titleholder and one of my closest friends, was hugging me. I shed tears. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar global winner in a quarter-century. The earlier winner from Finland, the earlier victor, was in attendance as well. He bestowed upon me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “finally happening”.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. Our guiding saying is “Focus on fun, not fighting”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a real philosophy. Participants come from all over the world, and all involved is positive and uplifting. Prior to performing, every competitor comes and hugs you. Then for one minute you’re free to be yourself, playful, the ultimate music icon in the world.

Additionally, I am a beat keeper and guitarist in a musical act with my family member called the Southgates, named after the sports figure, as we’re influenced by British music genres. I’ve been serving drinks for a couple of years, and I direct short films and song visuals. The victory hasn’t changed my day-to-day life significantly but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I wish it results in more creative work. Oulu will be a designated cultural center soon, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just appreciative: for the community, for the ability to compete, and for that young child who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”