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When I was just 10, I came across a story in my community gazette about the World Air Guitar Competition, which take place every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had participated at the very first contest back in 1996 – my mother gave out flyers, my dad managed the music. Since then, national championships have been held globally, with the champions gathering in Oulu each August.

Back then, I requested permission if I could participate. They weren't sure at first; the event was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They felt it might be an overwhelming atmosphere, but I was resolved.

As a kid, I was always miming air guitar, miming along to the most popular rock tunes with my invisible instrument. My parents were music fans – dad loved Bruce Springsteen and U2. AC/DC was the original act I discovered on my own. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my hero.

As I took the stage, I performed my act to the band's that classic track. The audience started chanting “Angus”, reminiscent of the live recording, and it hit me: this is what it feels like to be a music icon. I reached the championship, competing to hundreds of people in the town square, and I was addicted. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a judge one year, and opened for the show on another occasion, but I didn't participate. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and adopt “The Angus” as my artist name. I’ve made it to the final each competition since then, and in 2023 I came second, so I was determined to win this year.

The air guitar community is like a family. Our guiding principle is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief.

The event is intense but joyful. Competitors have 60 seconds to put their all – explosive energy, perfect mime, stage magnetism – on an nonexistent axe. Judges evaluate you on a point range from a specific numeric range. If scores are equal, there’s an “showdown” between the final two contestants: a tune begins and you improvise.

Preparation is everything. I selected an a metal group song for my act. I had it on repeat for weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my limbs flexible enough to jump, my hands nimble enough to copy riffs and my back ready for those gestures and hops. By the time the big day arrived, I could sense the music in my bones.

After everyone had performed, the scores came in, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was moment for an final showdown. We faced off to the Guns N’ Roses hit by Guns N’ Roses. As the music started, I felt comforted because it was a tune I recognized, and more than anything I was so eager to play again. As they declared I’d triumphed, the venue exploded.

The moment is hazy. I think I blacked out from shock. Then all present started chanting the classic tune the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and lifted me on to their backs. A former champion – AKA Nordic Thunder – a former champion and one of my closest friends, was embracing me. I shed tears. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in two and a half decades. The earlier winner from Finland, the former champion, was there, too. He gave me the warmest embrace and said it was “about damn time”.

This worldwide group is like a close-knit group. The phrase we live by is “Focus on fun, not fighting”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a genuine belief. Competitors come from globally, and all involved is positive and uplifting. As you prepare to compete, all participants shows support. Then for one minute you’re allowed to be uninhibited, humorous, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a drummer and musician in a band with my family member called the Southgates, inspired by the sports figure, as we’re fans of British music genres. I’ve been working in bars for a few years now, and I direct independent videos and song visuals. The title hasn’t altered my routine drastically but I’ve been doing a extensive media, and I aspire it leads to more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a designated cultural center soon, so there are exciting things ahead.

For now, I’m just appreciative: for the group, for the ability to compete, and for that young child who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I'd love to try that.”