🔗 Share this article

At the age of 10, I read about a story in my community gazette about the Global Air Guitar Contest, which take place every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My parents had participated at the inaugural contest since 1996 – my mother handed out flyers, dad managed the music. Ever since, national championships have been held in many nations, with the winners gathering in Oulu annually.

At the time, I requested permission 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 daunting atmosphere, but I was determined.

As a kid, I was always performing air guitar, pretending to play to the iconic rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. Mom and Dad were lovers of music – my father loved Springsteen and U2. AC/DC was the original act I found independently. Angus Young, the lead guitarist, was my inspiration.

As I took the stage, I played my set to the band's the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The spectators started chanting “Angus”, similar to the live recording, and it struck me: this must be to be a music icon. I reached the championship, competing to crowds in Oulu’s market square, and I was addicted. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a referee one year, and opened for the show on another occasion, but I didn't participate. I returned at 18, tried a few different stage names, but everyone still referred to me as “Little Angus” so I embraced it and adopt “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve qualified for the last round every year since 2022, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was set to take the title this year.

Our global network is like a support system. Our motto is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy.

The contest is competitive but uplifting. Contestants have a short window to give everything – dynamic presence, flawless imitation, performance charm – on an nonexistent axe. Adjudicators evaluate you on a point range from a specific numeric range. In the case of a tie, there’s an “showdown” between the final two contestants: a track is selected and you create on the spot.

Training is crucial. I chose an a metal group song for my routine. I played it repeatedly for multiple weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my legs loose enough to bound, my hands nimble enough to imitate guitar parts and my spine prepared for those bends and jumps. When the event arrived, I could feel the song in my soul.

Once all acts were done, the scores came in, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was time for an final showdown. We went head-to-head to the Guns N’ Roses hit by Guns N’ Roses. Once the track began, I felt relieved because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so thrilled to play again. When they announced I’d won, the square exploded.

My memory is blurry. I think I lost consciousness from the excitement. Then all present started chanting Neil Young’s Rockin’ in the Free World and raised me up on to their backs. Justin Howard – alias his stage name – a former champion and one of my best pals, was holding me. I shed tears. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in 25 years. The previous Finnish champion, the earlier victor, was also present. He offered me the warmest embrace and said it was “about damn time”.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. Our guiding saying is “Make air, not war”. It sounds silly, but it’s a true way of life. Participants come from all over the world, and each person is helpful and motivating. Before you go on stage, each contestant shows support. Then for 60 seconds you’re able to be uninhibited, silly, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a percussionist and string player in a group with my brother called the Southgates, named after the sports figure, as we’re influenced by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been working in bars for a few years now, and I create mini movies and song visuals. Winning hasn’t changed my day-to-day life drastically but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I hope it results in more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a cultural hub next year, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just thankful: for the group, for the ability to compete, and for that little kid who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”