🔗 Share this article

Back when I was 10, I came across a story in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, held annually every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My parents had volunteered at the very first contest starting from 1996 – my mother distributed flyers, my dad managed the music. From that point, country-level contests have been staged in many nations, with the champions converging in Oulu every summer.

Back then, I inquired with my family if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the competition was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They felt it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was set on it.

In my youth, I was always performing air guitar, pretending to play to the most popular rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My parents were music fans – my dad loved The Boss and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the first band I discovered on my own. the lead guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my idol.

Upon entering the spotlight, I did my routine to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started yelling “Angus”, reminiscent of the album track, and it hit me: so this is to be a rock star. I reached the championship, competing to crowds in the town square, and I was hooked. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a referee one year, and opened for the show another time, but I stayed out of the contest. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and choose “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve made it to the final annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I came second, so I was set to claim victory this year.

The air guitar community is like a family. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. Though it appears humorous, but it’s a real philosophy.

The contest is intense but joyful. Competitors have one minute to put their all – high-powered performance, perfect mime, performance charm – on an imaginary instrument. The panel rate you on a scale from a specific numeric range. When it's a draw, there’s an “air-off” between the remaining participants: a tune begins and you improvise.

Training is crucial. I picked an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my act. I had it on repeat for a long time. I did regular stretches, trying to get my lower body loose enough to leap, my fingers quick enough to mimic solos and my back ready for those bends and jumps. When the event came, I could sense the music in my soul.

After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had drawn with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was time for an tiebreaker. We went head-to-head to that classic rock anthem by the rock group. Once the track began, I felt comforted because it was one that I knew, and more than anything I was so thrilled to perform one more time. As they declared I’d triumphed, the square went wild.

My memory is blurry. I think I lost consciousness from the excitement. Then all present started performing Neil Young’s Rockin’ in the Free World and hoisted me on to their shoulders. One of the greats – also known as his stage name – a previous titleholder and one of my closest friends, was holding me. I wept. I was the first Finnish air guitar global winner in a quarter-century. The prior titleholder, the earlier victor, was also present. He bestowed upon me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “long overdue”.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. Our guiding saying is “Make air, not war”. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy. Participants come from globally, and each person is helpful and motivating. Before you go on stage, each contestant shows support. Then for one minute you’re free to be uninhibited, playful, the top performer in the world.

Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and musician in a group with my sibling called the Southgates, referencing the football manager, as we’re influenced by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been working in bars for a couple of years, and I create short films and performance clips. Winning hasn’t changed my day-to-day life too much but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I aspire it results in more creative work. My hometown will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are great prospects.

Currently, I’m just appreciative: for the network, for the chance to perform, and for that young child who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I want to do that.”