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When I was just 10, I came across a story in my hometown newspaper about the Global Air Guitar Contest, which take place every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had volunteered at the very first contest starting from 1996 – my mum gave out flyers, my father sorted the music. Since then, country-level contests have been staged in many nations, with the titleholders converging in Oulu annually.

At the time, I asked my parents if I could participate. Initially they had doubts; the competition was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They believed it might be an intimidating 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 imaginary instrument. Mom and Dad were music fans – my dad loved Bruce Springsteen and U2. the Australian rockers was the first band I discovered on my own. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my inspiration.

As I took the stage, I did my routine to AC/DC’s the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The crowd started yelling “Angus”, similar to the album track, and it dawned on me: so this is to be a guitar hero. I advanced to the last round, performing to hundreds of people in the public plaza, and I was captivated. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a referee one year, and opened for the show another time, but I didn’t compete. I came back at 18, tried a few different stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and make “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve made it to the final every year since 2022, and in 2023 I came second, so I was determined to take the title this year.

The worldwide group is like a support system. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy.

The event is competitive but uplifting. Participants have a short window to give everything – high-powered performance, precise mimicry, stage magnetism – on an imaginary instrument. The panel evaluate you on a grading system from 4.0 to 6.0. If scores are equal, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the final two contestants: a song plays and you freestyle.

Training is crucial. I picked an a metal group song for my routine. I played it repeatedly for multiple weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my limbs prepared enough to bound, my fingers quick enough to mimic solos and my spine prepared for those bends and jumps. Once the big day arrived, I could sense the music in my soul.

Once all acts were done, the results were tallied, and I had tied with the winner from Japan, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was moment for an air-off. We went head-to-head to that classic rock anthem by Guns N’ Roses. As the music started, I felt relieved because it was familiar to me, and primarily I was so eager to have another go. When they announced I’d triumphed, the area exploded.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I lost consciousness from surprise. Then everyone started singing Neil Young’s that well-known track and lifted me on to their arms. Justin Howard – alias Nordic Thunder – a former champion and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I wept. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in two and a half decades. The prior titleholder, Markus “Black Raven” Vainionpää, was in attendance as well. He gave me the biggest hug and said it was “about damn time”.

This worldwide group is like a support system. Our guiding saying is “Make air, not war”. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy. People come from globally, and everyone is helpful and motivating. As you prepare to compete, all participants shows support. Then for 60 seconds you’re allowed to be uninhibited, humorous, the ultimate music icon in the world.

Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and guitarist in a group with my family member called the band name, inspired by the football manager, as we’re inspired by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been working in bars for a couple of years, and I produce short films and song visuals. Winning hasn’t changed my day-to-day life significantly but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I hope it results in more creative work. My hometown will be a cultural hub soon, so there are promising opportunities.

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