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When I was just 10, I discovered a story in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, that happens every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. My parents had volunteered at the inaugural contest starting from 1996 – mom distributed flyers, my father managed the music. Ever since, country-level contests have been held all across the world, with the titleholders converging in Oulu annually.

Initially, I asked my parents if I could enter. At first they were hesitant; the show was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They thought it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was set on it.

During childhood, I was always performing air guitar, miming along to the most popular rock tunes with my invisible instrument. My parents were enthusiasts – dad loved The Boss and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the initial group I stumbled upon myself. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my idol.

Upon entering the spotlight, I played my set to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started chanting “Angus”, reminiscent of the concert version, and it dawned on me: so this is to be a guitar hero. I made it to the finals, competing to hundreds of people in Oulu’s market square, and I was captivated. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a adjudicator one year, and kicked off the show on another occasion, but I didn't participate. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and make “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve reached the finals annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was set to win 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 genuine belief.

The event is high-energy yet fun. Competitors have one minute to deliver maximum effort – explosive energy, perfect mime, rock star charisma – on an imaginary instrument. Adjudicators rate you on a grading system from four to six. In the case of a tie, there’s an “showdown” between the remaining participants: a track is selected and you improvise.

Preparation is everything. I picked an a metal group song for my routine. I had it on repeat for multiple weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my legs loose enough to bound, my digits nimble enough to copy riffs and my upper body ready for those gestures and hops. By the time competition day came, I could sense the music in my bones.

When the show concluded, the results were tallied, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was occasion for an air-off. We went head-to-head to the Guns N’ Roses hit by Guns N’ Roses. As the music started, I felt relieved because it was a tune I recognized, and more than anything I was so eager to perform one more time. Once the results were read I’d won, the area erupted.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I zoned out from shock. Then all present started singing the song that well-known track and hoisted me on to their shoulders. One of the greats – also known as his stage name – a past winner and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I cried. I was Finland’s first air guitar global winner in a quarter-century. The earlier winner from Finland, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He bestowed upon me the warmest embrace and said it was “finally happening”.

Our global network is like a close-knit group. Our motto is “Focus on fun, not fighting”. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy. People come from many countries, and all involved is positive and uplifting. As you prepare to compete, all participants comes and hugs you. Then for one minute you’re able to be yourself, playful, the biggest rock star in the world.

Additionally, I am a beat keeper and musician in a musical act with my sibling called the band name, referencing the football manager, as we’re inspired by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been bartending for a few years now, and I direct mini movies and music videos. Winning hasn’t changed my day-to-day life too much but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I wish it leads to more artistic projects. My hometown will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just thankful: for the group, for the ability to compete, and for that young child who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I'd love to try that.”