🔗 Share this article

When I was just 10, I read about a story in my local paper about the Global Air Guitar Contest, held annually every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had volunteered at the very first contest back in 1996 – mom handed out flyers, my father organized the music. From that point, domestic competitions have been organized globally, with the champions assembling in Oulu every summer.

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

In my youth, I was always performing air guitar, acting out to the iconic rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. Mom and Dad were music fans – my father loved Bruce Springsteen and U2. the Australian rockers was the original act I found independently. Angus Young, the frontman guitarist, was my hero.

As I took the stage, I performed my act to AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started yelling “Angus”, similar to the live recording, and it dawned on me: this must be to be a rock star. I made it to the finals, playing to hundreds of people in the town square, and I was addicted. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a judge one year, and kicked off the show another time, but I stayed out of the contest. I went back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and make “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve reached the finals every year since 2022, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was determined to take the title this year.

Our global network is like a family. The saying we live by is ‘Make air, not war’. It may seem funny, but it’s a real philosophy.

The event is intense but joyful. Contestants have one minute to give everything – dynamic presence, flawless imitation, performance charm – on an invisible guitar. Judges score you on a scale from four to six. In the case of a tie, there’s an “showdown” between the remaining participants: a song plays and you improvise.

Training is crucial. I selected an a metal group song for my routine. I listened to it on a loop for a long time. I did regular stretches, trying to get my lower body prepared enough to jump, my fingers quick enough to mimic solos and my back prepared for those bends and jumps. By the time the event dawned, I could internalize the track in my bones.

After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had matched with the Japanese champion, the Japanese titleholder – it was occasion for an tiebreaker. We faced off to Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. As the music started, I felt at ease because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so eager to have another go. As they declared I’d won, the area went wild.

The moment is hazy. I think I zoned out from surprise. Then the crowd started performing Neil Young’s Rockin’ in the Free World and raised me up on to their arms. One of the greats – AKA his stage name – a past winner and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I shed tears. I was the first Finnish air guitar global winner in a quarter-century. The previous Finnish champion, the former champion, was there, too. He bestowed upon me the biggest hug and said it was “long overdue”.

The air guitar community is like a family. The phrase we live by is “Create music, not conflict”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a genuine belief. Competitors come from all over the world, and each person is positive and uplifting. Before you go on stage, every competitor shows support. Then for a brief period you’re able to be uninhibited, silly, the biggest rock star in the world.

Besides that, I'm a percussionist and guitarist in a group with my sibling called the group title, referencing the football manager, as we’re fans of Britpop and new wave. I’ve been bartending for a few years now, and I produce independent videos and music videos. The title hasn’t affected my daily activities significantly but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I wish it results in more innovative opportunities. The city will be a cultural hub soon, so there are promising opportunities.

Currently, I’m just grateful: for the community, for the opportunity to play, and for that budding enthusiast who read an article and thought, “I'd love to try that.”