🔗 Share this article

At the age of 10, I discovered a article in my local paper about the World Air Guitar Competition, held annually every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had volunteered at the very first contest since 1996 – mom gave out flyers, my dad sorted the music. Ever since, national championships have been staged globally, with the titleholders converging in Oulu annually.

Initially, I inquired with my family if I could enter. At first they were hesitant; the event was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They thought it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was determined.

As a kid, I was always “playing” air guitar, pretending to play to the iconic rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. Mom and Dad were enthusiasts – my father loved The Boss and U2. AC/DC was the first band I discovered on my own. the guitarist, the guitar hero, was my hero.

When I stepped on stage, I did my routine to AC/DC’s the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The spectators started yelling “Angus”, just like the album track, and it dawned on me: this is what it feels like to be a guitar hero. I made it to the finals, performing to hundreds of people in the public plaza, 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 compete. I came back at 18, tested out several stage names, but everyone still referred to me as “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and adopt “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve made it to the final each competition since then, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was resolved to take the title this year.

The worldwide group is like a support system. Our motto is ‘Play air guitar, avoid battles’. Though it appears humorous, but it’s a genuine belief.

The competition itself is intense but joyful. Contestants have one minute to put their all – high-powered performance, perfect mime, stage magnetism – on an nonexistent axe. Judges rate you on a scale from four to six. When it's a draw, there’s an “air-off” between the remaining participants: a tune begins and you improvise.

Getting ready is key. I chose an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my performance. I had it on repeat for multiple weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my lower body loose enough to jump, my digits nimble enough to copy riffs and my upper body ready for those moves and leaps. Once the event came, I could feel the song in my being.

After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had matched with the winner from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was time for an tiebreaker. We went head-to-head to Sweet Child o’ Mine by the rock group. When I heard the song, I felt at ease because it was one that I knew, and more than anything I was so eager to perform one more time. Once the results were read I’d triumphed, the venue exploded.

My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from the excitement. Then all present started chanting the classic tune that well-known track and hoisted me on to their backs. Justin Howard – also known as Nordic Thunder – a past winner and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I cried. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in two and a half decades. The previous Finnish champion, the earlier victor, was in attendance as well. He offered me the biggest hug and said it was “about damn time”.

The air guitar community is like a family. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a true way of life. Participants come from globally, and all involved is supportive and encouraging. As you prepare to compete, all participants offers an embrace. Then for a brief period you’re allowed to be yourself, humorous, the ultimate music icon in the world.

I’m also a beat keeper and string player in a band with my brother called the band name, inspired by the sports figure, as we’re influenced by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been serving drinks for a few years now, and I produce short films and song visuals. The victory hasn’t altered my routine too much but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I aspire it brings more artistic projects. The city will be a European capital of culture soon, so there are great prospects.

For now, I’m just thankful: for the community, for the opportunity to play, and for that little kid who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I want to do that.”