🔗 Share this article

At the age of 10, I came across a story in my community gazette about the Global Air Guitar Contest, held annually every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My family had helped out at the pioneering contest back in 1996 – mom handed out flyers, my father managed the music. Ever since, country-level contests have been held all across the world, with the titleholders converging in Oulu each August.

Initially, I inquired with my family if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the competition was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They thought it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was set on it.

As a kid, I was always “playing” air guitar, acting out to the most popular rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My parents were lovers of music – my father loved The Boss and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the initial group I discovered on my own. Angus Young, the lead guitarist, was my hero.

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 concert version, and it struck me: this is what it feels like to be a guitar hero. I reached the championship, performing to hundreds of people in the town square, and I was addicted. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a adjudicator one year, and opened for the show on another occasion, but I didn’t compete. I went back at 18, tried a few different stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and make “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve made it to the final annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was set to claim victory this year.

The air guitar community is like a family. Our motto is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a true ethos.

The event is competitive but uplifting. Participants have 60 seconds to give everything – high-powered performance, perfect mime, rock star charisma – on an nonexistent axe. Adjudicators score you on a point range 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 picked an Avenged Sevenfold song for my act. I listened to it on a loop for weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my limbs prepared enough to leap, my fingers quick enough to copy riffs and my upper body ready for those gestures and hops. By the time the big day came, I could feel the song in my soul.

After everyone had performed, the points were announced, and I had tied with the winner from Japan, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was occasion for an air-off. We faced off to the Guns N’ Roses hit by the iconic band. Once the track began, I felt at ease because it was a tune I recognized, and more than anything I was so excited to play again. As they declared I’d won, the square erupted.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I lost consciousness from the excitement. Then all present started chanting Neil Young’s the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and lifted me on to their shoulders. Justin Howard – alias his stage name – a past winner and one of my best pals, was embracing me. I wept. I was Finland’s first air guitar international titleholder in two and a half decades. The prior titleholder, the former champion, was there, too. He offered me the biggest hug and said it was “finally happening”.

Our global network is like a support system. The phrase we live by is “Create music, not conflict”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a true way of life. Competitors come from globally, and each person is positive and uplifting. As you prepare to compete, every competitor offers an embrace. Then for 60 seconds you’re allowed to be yourself, silly, the biggest rock star in the world.

Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and string player in a band with my sibling called the band name, inspired by the football manager, as we’re fans of UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been serving drinks for a short time, and I direct short films and music videos. Winning hasn’t affected my daily activities too much but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I aspire it results in more artistic projects. My hometown will be a designated cultural center the coming year, so there are exciting things ahead.

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