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Back when I was 10, I discovered a feature in my community gazette about the Global Air Guitar Contest, that happens every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My parents had helped out at the pioneering contest starting from 1996 – my mother gave out flyers, dad managed the music. Ever since, country-level contests have been organized all across the world, with the champions converging in Oulu annually.

Initially, I inquired with my family if I could enter. At first they were hesitant; the event was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They believed it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was determined.

During childhood, I was always “playing” air guitar, miming along to the iconic rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. Mom and Dad were lovers of music – my father loved Bruce Springsteen and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the first band I found independently. Angus Young, the guitar hero, was my inspiration.

When I stepped on stage, I played my set to AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started chanting “Angus”, similar to the album track, and it hit me: this must be to be a guitar hero. I reached the championship, competing to crowds in the town square, and I was hooked. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a adjudicator one year, and kicked off the show on another occasion, but I didn't participate. I went back at 18, tested out several stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and adopt “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. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a true ethos.

The event is intense but joyful. Participants have one minute to deliver maximum effort – dynamic presence, perfect mime, stage magnetism – on an nonexistent axe. Judges score you on a scale from 4.0 to 6.0. When it's a draw, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the final two contestants: a tune begins and you improvise.

Training is crucial. I selected an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my routine. I had it on repeat for weeks. I stretched constantly, trying to get my limbs flexible enough to bound, my hands fast enough to mimic solos and my spine ready for those gestures and hops. By the time the big day dawned, I could sense the music in my being.

After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had drawn with the Japanese champion, the Japanese titleholder – it was occasion for an air-off. We faced off to Sweet Child o’ Mine by the rock group. As the music started, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so thrilled to perform one more time. Once the results were read I’d won, the square went wild.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I lost consciousness from the excitement. Then the crowd started chanting Neil Young’s the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and raised me up on to their arms. Justin Howard – alias his performer title – a previous titleholder and one of my dear companions, was hugging me. I cried. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in 25 years. The earlier winner from Finland, Markus “Black Raven” Vainionpää, was in attendance as well. He offered me the biggest hug and said it was “long overdue”.

This worldwide group is like a close-knit group. The phrase we live by is “Create music, not conflict”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a genuine belief. Competitors come from many countries, and everyone is supportive and encouraging. Prior to performing, all participants offers an embrace. Then for 60 seconds you’re able to be uninhibited, playful, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a percussionist and guitarist in a band with my brother called the Southgates, referencing the sports figure, as we’re inspired by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been serving drinks for a few years now, and I produce mini movies and song visuals. Winning hasn’t changed my day-to-day life too much but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I hope it leads to more innovative opportunities. The city will be a designated cultural center next year, so there are promising opportunities.

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