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At the age of 10, I discovered a article in my local paper about the World Air Guitar Competition, held annually every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. My parents had volunteered at the inaugural contest back in 1996 – my mum handed out flyers, my father organized the music. From that point, national championships have been organized all across the world, with the champions gathering in Oulu each August.

Back then, I asked my parents if I could participate. Initially they had doubts; the event was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They thought it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was resolved.

As a kid, I was always “playing” air guitar, pretending to play to the iconic rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. My family were enthusiasts – my dad loved Springsteen and U2. AC/DC was the first band I discovered on my own. the lead guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my inspiration.

As I took the stage, I played my set to AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie. The audience started shouting “Angus”, just like the album track, and it struck me: so this is to be a rock star. I advanced to the last round, competing to a large audience in Oulu’s market square, and I was addicted. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.

Later I paused. 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 choose “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve qualified for the last round every year since 2022, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was resolved to take the title this year.

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

The contest is intense but joyful. Competitors have a short window to deliver maximum effort – high-powered performance, perfect mime, performance charm – on an imaginary instrument. The panel score you on a scale from four to six. When it's a draw, there’s an “air-off” between the final two contestants: a track is selected and you freestyle.

Preparation is everything. I selected an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my routine. I had it on repeat for multiple weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my lower body loose enough to jump, my digits quick enough to mimic solos and my upper body set for those moves and leaps. When the event arrived, I could feel the song in my being.

When the show concluded, the scores came in, and I had drawn with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was occasion for an tiebreaker. We competed directly to Sweet Child o’ Mine by the iconic band. Once the track began, I felt comforted because it was a tune I recognized, and primarily I was so excited to play again. Once the results were read I’d emerged victorious, the square exploded.

My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from shock. Then the crowd started performing the song the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and raised me up on to their arms. One of the greats – also known as Nordic Thunder – a former champion and one of my closest friends, was holding me. I cried. I was Finland’s first air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The earlier winner from Finland, Markus “Black Raven” Vainionpää, was there, too. He gave me the warmest embrace and said it was “long overdue”.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. Our guiding saying is “Make air, not war”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a true way of life. Participants come from all over the world, and all involved is helpful and motivating. Prior to performing, every competitor shows support. Then for 60 seconds you’re allowed to be uninhibited, silly, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a drummer and musician in a band with my brother called the group title, inspired by the football manager, as we’re inspired by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been serving drinks for a couple of years, and I direct 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 results in more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a designated cultural center the coming year, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just thankful: for the community, for the chance to perform, and for that little kid who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I want to do that.”