🔗 Share this article

Back when I was 10, I read about a feature in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, held annually every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had helped out at the inaugural contest starting from 1996 – mom distributed flyers, my father sorted the music. From that point, domestic competitions have been organized in many nations, with the titleholders gathering in Oulu each August.

Initially, I requested permission if I could participate. 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 overwhelming atmosphere, but I was set on it.

In my youth, I was always “playing” air guitar, acting out to the biggest rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. Mom and Dad were lovers of music – my father loved Bruce Springsteen and U2. the band AC/DC was the original act I discovered on my own. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my hero.

Upon entering the spotlight, I did my routine to the band's the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The audience started chanting “Angus”, reminiscent of the live recording, and it hit me: this is what it feels like to be a guitar hero. I made it to the finals, playing to crowds in the town square, and I was addicted. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a adjudicator one year, and started the show another time, but I didn't participate. I came back at 18, tried a few different stage names, but everyone still referred to me as “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and adopt “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve reached the finals annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I came second, so I was resolved to win this year.

The air guitar community is like a family. The saying we live by is ‘Play air guitar, avoid battles’. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief.

The contest is competitive but uplifting. Participants have 60 seconds to deliver maximum effort – dynamic presence, perfect mime, rock star charisma – on an imaginary instrument. Judges evaluate you on a grading system from four to six. If scores are equal, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the final two contestants: a song plays and you create on the spot.

Training is crucial. I picked an Avenged Sevenfold song for my routine. I listened to it on a loop for multiple weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my lower body prepared enough to jump, my digits fast enough to copy riffs and my back set for those gestures and hops. Once the big day dawned, I could internalize the track in my being.

After everyone had performed, the scores came in, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was time for an air-off. We went head-to-head to Sweet Child o’ Mine by the iconic band. When I heard the song, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so eager to have another go. As they declared I’d emerged victorious, the area erupted.

My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from the excitement. Then all present started chanting Neil Young’s Rockin’ in the Free World and raised me up on to their backs. One of the greats – alias his stage name – a past winner and one of my closest friends, was hugging me. I shed tears. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar international titleholder in two and a half decades. The earlier winner from Finland, the earlier victor, was in attendance as well. He offered me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “finally happening”.

Our global network is like a support system. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief. Competitors come from all over the world, and all involved is positive and uplifting. As you prepare to compete, every competitor offers an embrace. Then for one minute you’re able to be free, silly, the ultimate music icon in the world.

Additionally, I am a percussionist and string player in a group with my family member called the Southgates, named after the football manager, 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 music videos. The title hasn’t altered my routine drastically but I’ve been doing a extensive media, and I aspire it brings more creative work. Oulu will be a cultural hub soon, so there are promising opportunities.

Currently, I’m just grateful: for the group, for the chance to perform, and for that young child who read an article and thought, “I want to do that.”