🔗 Share this article

Back when I was 10, I came across a feature in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, held annually every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had volunteered at the very first contest back in 1996 – my mother gave out flyers, dad organized the music. Ever since, country-level contests have been staged all across the world, with the winners gathering in Oulu annually.

Initially, I requested permission if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the show was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They believed it might be an overwhelming atmosphere, but I was resolved.

In my youth, I was always “playing” air guitar, acting out to the biggest rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My parents were music fans – my dad loved Springsteen and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the first band I discovered on my own. the lead guitarist, the guitar hero, was my hero.

When I stepped on stage, I played my set to AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started chanting “Angus”, just like the live recording, and it hit me: this must be to be a music icon. I advanced to the last round, performing to a large audience in Oulu’s market square, and I was addicted. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a referee one year, and kicked off the show another time, but I didn't participate. I came back at 18, tried a few different stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and adopt “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve reached the finals every year since 2022, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was resolved to take the title this year.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It may seem funny, but it’s a true ethos.

The competition itself is intense but joyful. Competitors have 60 seconds to give everything – explosive energy, precise mimicry, performance charm – on an nonexistent axe. Judges evaluate you on a grading system from a specific numeric range. If scores are equal, there’s an “air-off” between the last two competitors: a track is selected and you freestyle.

Training is crucial. I selected an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my performance. I played it repeatedly for a long time. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my limbs prepared enough to bound, my digits fast enough to copy riffs and my upper body ready for those moves and leaps. By the time competition day arrived, I could internalize the track in my bones.

Once all acts were done, the results were tallied, and I had tied with the Japanese champion, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was occasion for an air-off. We competed directly to that classic rock anthem by Guns N’ Roses. As the music started, I felt at ease because it was a tune I recognized, and above all I was so eager to have another go. When they announced I’d triumphed, the square erupted.

The moment is hazy. I think I blacked out from surprise. Then everyone started performing the song that well-known track and hoisted me on to their shoulders. Justin Howard – also known as his performer title – a former champion and one of my dear companions, was embracing me. I cried. I was Finland’s first air guitar world champion in 25 years. The prior titleholder, Markus “Black Raven” Vainionpää, was there, too. He gave me the biggest hug and said it was “finally happening”.

Our global network is like a support system. Our motto is “Make air, not war”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a true way of life. Competitors come from many countries, and everyone is positive and uplifting. As you prepare to compete, all participants offers an embrace. Then for 60 seconds you’re allowed to be free, humorous, the ultimate music icon in the world.

Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and string player in a musical act with my brother called the group title, referencing the sports figure, as we’re inspired by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been working in bars for a short time, and I create short films and performance clips. Winning hasn’t altered my routine significantly but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I wish it brings more artistic projects. My hometown will be a designated cultural center soon, so there are great prospects.

At present, I’m just thankful: for the network, for the opportunity to play, and for that young child who read an article and thought, “That's for me.”