Back when I was 10, I came across a story in my local paper about the Global Air Guitar Contest, that happens every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. My parents had helped out at the very first contest back in 1996 – mom distributed flyers, dad managed the music. From that point, country-level contests have been staged in many nations, with the titleholders assembling in Oulu annually.
Initially, I inquired with my family if I could enter. They weren't sure at first; the show was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They believed it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was set on it.
In my youth, I was always miming air guitar, pretending to play to the biggest rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. My parents were music fans – my dad loved The Boss and U2. the band AC/DC was the initial group I stumbled upon myself. the guitarist, the guitar hero, was my hero.
As I took the stage, I performed my act to the band's that classic track. The audience started yelling “Angus”, similar to the concert version, and it struck me: this must be to be a music icon. I reached the championship, playing to a large audience in the town square, and I was captivated. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.
Then I took a break. I was a referee one year, and kicked off the show once more, but I didn’t compete. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but everyone still referred to me as “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and make “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve reached the finals each competition since then, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was determined to claim victory this year.
The air guitar community is like a support system. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It may seem funny, but it’s a genuine belief.
The competition itself is intense but joyful. Contestants have one minute to deliver maximum effort – dynamic presence, precise mimicry, performance charm – on an invisible guitar. Adjudicators rate you on a scale from four to six. When it's a draw, there’s an “showdown” between the remaining participants: a song plays and you improvise.
Training is crucial. I picked an Avenged Sevenfold song for my routine. I played it repeatedly for a long time. I stretched constantly, trying to get my limbs flexible enough to leap, my digits quick enough to mimic solos and my spine prepared for those gestures and hops. By the time the big day came, I could sense the music in my soul.
When the show concluded, the results were tallied, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was moment for an air-off. We went head-to-head to Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. When I heard the song, I felt at ease because it was a tune I recognized, and more than anything I was so eager to perform one more time. When they announced I’d emerged victorious, the square exploded.
The moment is hazy. I think I zoned out from surprise. Then the crowd started chanting the classic tune Rockin’ in the Free World and lifted me on to their arms. A former champion – AKA his performer title – a previous titleholder and one of my closest friends, was embracing me. I wept. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in 25 years. The prior titleholder, the former champion, was also present. He offered me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “finally happening”.
This worldwide group is like a support system. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a true way of life. Competitors come from many countries, and each person is supportive and encouraging. Prior to performing, each contestant shows support. Then for 60 seconds you’re able to be free, playful, the top performer in the world.
I’m also a beat keeper and guitarist in a musical act with my family member called the band name, inspired by the sports figure, as we’re inspired by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been bartending for a couple of years, and I produce mini movies and music videos. Winning hasn’t changed my day-to-day life too much but I’ve been doing a extensive media, and I wish it brings more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a European capital of culture the coming year, so there are great prospects.
Currently, I’m just grateful: for the community, for the ability to compete, and for that little kid who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”