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When I was just 10, I discovered a article in my hometown newspaper about the Air Guitar World Championships, that happens every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. My family had volunteered at the pioneering contest starting from 1996 – my mother gave out flyers, my father managed the music. Since then, domestic competitions have been held in many nations, with the champions gathering in Oulu each August.

Back then, I requested permission if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the competition was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They thought it might be an overwhelming atmosphere, but I was set on it.

In my youth, I was always performing air guitar, acting out to the biggest rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My family were music fans – my dad loved The Boss and U2. the Australian rockers was the first band I stumbled upon myself. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my idol.

Upon entering the spotlight, I played my set to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started shouting “Angus”, reminiscent of the album track, and it dawned on me: this is what it feels like to be a guitar hero. I made it to the finals, competing to hundreds of people in Oulu’s market square, and I was captivated. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. I was a referee one year, and opened for the show another time, 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 decided to own it and choose “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 resolved to win this year.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. Our motto is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It may seem funny, but it’s a genuine belief.

The competition itself is high-energy yet fun. Competitors have 60 seconds to deliver maximum effort – high-powered performance, perfect mime, performance charm – on an nonexistent axe. Judges evaluate you on a grading system from 4.0 to 6.0. In the case of a tie, there’s an “air-off” between the final two contestants: a tune begins and you improvise.

Getting ready is key. I picked an a metal group song for my act. I had it on repeat for multiple weeks. I stretched constantly, trying to get my limbs prepared enough to bound, my digits nimble enough to copy riffs and my spine prepared for those bends and jumps. Once competition day dawned, I could sense the music in my being.

When the show concluded, the results were tallied, and I had tied with the Japanese champion, the Japanese titleholder – it was occasion for an air-off. We went head-to-head to Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. Once the track began, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so excited to play again. When they announced I’d emerged victorious, the venue exploded.

The moment is hazy. I think I blacked out from surprise. Then everyone started singing the classic tune Rockin’ in the Free World and lifted me on to their shoulders. A former champion – alias his performer title – a previous titleholder and one of my closest friends, was hugging me. I shed tears. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in 25 years. The previous Finnish champion, Markus “Black Raven” Vainionpää, was in attendance as well. He offered me the biggest hug and said it was “long overdue”.

The air guitar community is like a support system. The phrase we live by is “Make air, not war”. It sounds silly, but it’s a true way of life. Participants come from globally, and each person is positive and uplifting. As you prepare to compete, all participants offers an embrace. Then for one minute you’re allowed to be free, silly, the top performer in the world.

Additionally, I am a percussionist and guitarist in a band with my brother called the Southgates, referencing the sports figure, as we’re fans of Britpop and new wave. I’ve been serving drinks for a couple of years, and I create mini movies and performance clips. The victory hasn’t affected my daily activities too much but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I hope it brings more creative work. My hometown will be a designated cultural center next year, so there are promising opportunities.

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