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When I was just 10, I discovered a story in my hometown newspaper about the World Air Guitar Competition, which take place every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My family had participated at the very first contest back in 1996 – mom distributed flyers, dad organized the music. Since then, country-level contests have been organized all across the world, with the titleholders converging in Oulu annually.

Initially, I inquired with my family if I could participate. They weren't sure at first; 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 resolved.

During childhood, I was always performing air guitar, acting out to the iconic rock tunes with my invisible instrument. Mom and Dad were music fans – dad loved Springsteen and U2. AC/DC was the initial group I discovered on my own. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my idol.

Upon entering the spotlight, I played my set to AC/DC’s the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started chanting “Angus”, just like the album track, and it struck me: this is what it feels like to be a music icon. I made it to the finals, playing to hundreds of people in the public plaza, and I was addicted. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a adjudicator one year, and opened for the show once more, but I didn't participate. I went back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I embraced it and choose “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve qualified for the last round every year since 2022, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was set to claim victory this year.

Our global network is like a family. The saying we live by is ‘Play air guitar, avoid battles’. It may seem funny, but it’s a genuine belief.

The competition itself is intense but joyful. Participants have 60 seconds to put their all – high-powered performance, perfect mime, performance charm – on an invisible guitar. Adjudicators rate you on a grading system from a specific numeric range. In the case of a tie, there’s an “showdown” between the final two contestants: a song plays and you freestyle.

Training is crucial. I picked an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my performance. I listened to it on a loop for a long time. I did regular stretches, trying to get my legs loose enough to jump, my hands quick enough to imitate guitar parts and my upper body set for those gestures and hops. By the time the event dawned, I could internalize the track in my soul.

After everyone had performed, the scores came in, and I had matched with the Japanese champion, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was moment for an final showdown. We faced off to the Guns N’ Roses hit by Guns N’ Roses. As the music started, I felt at ease because it was one that I knew, and more than anything I was so excited to play again. Once the results were read I’d triumphed, the area went wild.

The moment is hazy. I think I lost consciousness from shock. Then everyone started performing the classic tune the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and raised me up on to their backs. One of the greats – AKA his stage name – a former champion and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I cried. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The earlier winner from Finland, the earlier victor, was also present. He bestowed upon me the warmest embrace and said it was “about damn time”.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. The phrase we live by is “Create music, not conflict”. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy. Competitors come from globally, and all involved is helpful and motivating. Before you go on stage, all participants offers an embrace. Then for one minute you’re free to be free, silly, the top performer in the world.

Besides that, I'm a percussionist and musician in a musical act with my sibling called the band name, referencing the sports figure, as we’re fans of British music genres. I’ve been bartending for a short time, and I direct short films and performance clips. Winning hasn’t affected my daily activities drastically but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I hope it results in more artistic projects. My hometown will be a designated cultural center next year, so there are exciting things ahead.

Currently, I’m just appreciative: for the group, for the ability to compete, and for that budding enthusiast who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”