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When I was just 10, I read about a feature in my local paper about the World Air Guitar Competition, held annually every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had participated at the pioneering contest starting from 1996 – my mother distributed flyers, dad sorted the music. From that point, country-level contests have been organized in many nations, with the titleholders gathering in Oulu each August.

At the time, I asked my parents if I could enter. 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 intimidating atmosphere, but I was set on it.

In my youth, I was always performing air guitar, pretending to play to the most popular rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. Mom and Dad were music fans – my dad loved Bruce Springsteen and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the first band I found independently. the lead guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my idol.

When I stepped on stage, I played my set to AC/DC’s the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started shouting “Angus”, just like the album track, and it struck me: this is what it feels like to be a music icon. I advanced to the last round, performing to hundreds of people in the public plaza, and I was addicted. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a referee one year, and opened for the show on another occasion, 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 accepted it fully and choose “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve reached the finals each competition since then, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was determined to take the title this year.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a true ethos.

The competition itself is intense but joyful. Competitors have one minute to put their all – dynamic presence, perfect mime, stage magnetism – on an nonexistent axe. The panel evaluate you on a scale from 4.0 to 6.0. If scores are equal, there’s an “showdown” between the remaining participants: a track is selected and you freestyle.

Preparation is everything. I picked an Avenged Sevenfold song for my act. I had it on repeat for a long time. I did regular stretches, trying to get my legs loose enough to leap, my digits fast enough to mimic solos and my back prepared for those gestures and hops. Once the big day came, I could internalize the track 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 occasion for an final showdown. We went head-to-head to Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. When I heard the song, I felt comforted because it was one that I knew, and primarily I was so excited to have another go. When they announced I’d emerged victorious, the area exploded.

The moment is hazy. I think I zoned out from shock. Then all present started performing Neil Young’s the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and raised me up on to their shoulders. One of the greats – also known as his performer title – a former champion and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I wept. I was Finland’s first air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The previous Finnish champion, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He bestowed upon me the warmest embrace and said it was “long overdue”.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. The phrase we live by is “Make air, not war”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a true way of life. Competitors come from globally, and each person is helpful and motivating. Before you go on stage, each contestant comes and hugs you. Then for one minute you’re free to be free, playful, the ultimate music icon in the world.

Additionally, I am a beat keeper and string player in a group with my brother called the band name, referencing the football manager, as we’re fans of Britpop and new wave. I’ve been serving drinks for a few years now, and I produce short films and performance clips. The title hasn’t affected my daily activities too much but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I wish it leads to more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a cultural hub next year, so there are great prospects.

At present, I’m just grateful: for the group, for the ability to compete, and for that little kid who read an article and thought, “I'd love to try that.”