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Back when I was 10, I discovered a story in my community gazette about the Global Air Guitar Contest, that happens every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My family had volunteered at the very first contest since 1996 – my mother distributed flyers, my dad organized the music. Since then, country-level contests have been staged in many nations, with the titleholders converging in Oulu annually.

Back then, I requested permission if I could compete. At first they were hesitant; the event was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They felt it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was resolved.

As a kid, I was always miming air guitar, miming along to the iconic rock tunes with my invisible instrument. Mom and Dad were enthusiasts – my father loved Bruce Springsteen and the Irish rock band. the band AC/DC was the initial group I stumbled upon myself. the guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my idol.

When I stepped on stage, I played my set to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started yelling “Angus”, just like the concert version, and it hit me: this must be 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.

After that I stopped. I was a adjudicator one year, and kicked off the show on another occasion, but I stayed out of the contest. I came back at 18, tried a few different 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 each competition since then, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was determined to claim victory this year.

The air guitar community is like a support system. Our motto is ‘Make air, not war’. Though it appears humorous, but it’s a true ethos.

The event is competitive but uplifting. Participants have a short window to put their all – dynamic presence, flawless imitation, performance charm – on an imaginary instrument. Judges score you on a scale from a specific numeric range. If scores are equal, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the remaining participants: a track is selected and you freestyle.

Preparation is everything. I picked an the band 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 flexible enough to bound, my hands fast enough to mimic solos and my back ready for those bends and jumps. Once the big day arrived, I could sense the music in my soul.

After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had drawn with the winner from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was time for an air-off. We faced off to the Guns N’ Roses hit by the rock group. As the music started, I felt at ease because it was familiar to me, and above all I was so eager to have another go. Once the results were read I’d emerged victorious, the venue erupted.

My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from the excitement. Then all present started chanting Neil Young’s the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and lifted me on to their backs. Justin Howard – also known as his stage name – a former champion and one of my closest friends, was holding me. I wept. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in 25 years. The previous Finnish champion, the former champion, was there, too. He bestowed upon me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “long overdue”.

The air guitar community is like a family. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy. Competitors come from globally, and everyone is helpful and motivating. Before you go on stage, all participants offers an embrace. Then for a brief period you’re able to be uninhibited, playful, the biggest rock star in the world.

Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and guitarist in a band with my sibling called the band name, named after the football manager, as we’re influenced by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been bartending for a couple of years, and I direct independent videos and music videos. The title hasn’t affected my daily activities drastically but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I wish it leads to more creative work. The city will be a cultural hub next year, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just appreciative: for the group, for the opportunity to play, and for that little kid who found a story and thought, “That's for me.”