🔗 Share this article

Back when I was 10, I read about a story in my hometown newspaper about the Global Air Guitar Contest, held annually every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My parents had volunteered at the pioneering contest since 1996 – my mum handed out flyers, dad organized the music. Ever since, domestic competitions have been staged globally, with the winners assembling in Oulu each August.

Back then, I asked my parents if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the event was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They believed it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was set on it.

In my youth, I was always “playing” air guitar, miming along to the most popular rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My parents were music fans – my father loved Springsteen and U2. AC/DC was the initial group I found independently. the lead guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my inspiration.

Upon entering the spotlight, I performed my act to AC/DC’s that classic track. The audience started yelling “Angus”, reminiscent of the album track, and it struck me: so this is to be a music icon. I reached the championship, playing to a large audience in Oulu’s market square, and I was addicted. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a referee one year, and started the show another time, but I stayed out of the contest. I returned at 18, tried a few different stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I embraced it and adopt “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve qualified for the last round annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I came second, so I was resolved to take the title this year.

Our global network is like a close-knit group. Our motto is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief.

The event is high-energy yet fun. Competitors have 60 seconds to put their all – dynamic presence, perfect mime, rock star charisma – on an imaginary instrument. The panel rate you on a scale from four to six. If scores are equal, there’s an “showdown” between the remaining participants: a song plays and you improvise.

Training is crucial. I chose an a metal group song for my routine. I played it repeatedly for multiple weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my limbs loose enough to leap, my hands nimble enough to mimic solos and my upper body ready for those gestures and hops. By the time the event arrived, I could feel the song in my soul.

Once all acts were done, the results were tallied, and I had drawn with the Japanese champion, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was occasion for an tiebreaker. We faced off to Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. Once the track began, I felt relieved because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so excited to have another go. As they declared I’d triumphed, the venue erupted.

The moment is hazy. I think I zoned out from the excitement. Then the crowd started chanting Neil Young’s Rockin’ in the Free World and hoisted me on to their backs. A former champion – alias his performer title – a previous titleholder and one of my closest friends, was embracing me. I cried. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar international titleholder in a quarter-century. The earlier winner from Finland, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He offered me the warmest embrace and said it was “about damn time”.

This worldwide group is like a support system. The phrase we live by is “Create music, not conflict”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a true way of life. People come from globally, and each person is positive and uplifting. Before you go on stage, every competitor comes and hugs you. Then for a brief period you’re allowed to be free, playful, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a drummer and guitarist in a group with my family member called the group title, inspired by the sports figure, as we’re inspired by British music genres. I’ve been working in bars for a short time, and I produce short films and song visuals. Winning hasn’t altered my routine drastically but I’ve been doing a extensive media, and I wish it leads to more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a cultural hub next year, so there are promising opportunities.

Currently, I’m just thankful: for the community, for the ability to compete, and for that budding enthusiast who read an article and thought, “I want to do that.”