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Back when I was 10, I discovered a feature in my community gazette 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 – mom handed out flyers, dad organized the music. From that point, national championships have been staged globally, with the champions gathering in Oulu every summer.

Back then, I inquired with my family 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 overwhelming atmosphere, but I was set on it.

As a kid, I was always performing air guitar, acting out to the most popular rock tunes with my invisible instrument. Mom and Dad were enthusiasts – my dad loved Springsteen and U2. the band AC/DC was the original act I stumbled upon myself. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my hero.

As I took the stage, I performed my act to AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie. The audience started shouting “Angus”, just like the live recording, and it hit me: so this is to be a music icon. I reached the championship, competing to a large audience in Oulu’s market square, and I was addicted. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.

After that I stopped. I was a adjudicator one year, and kicked off the show another time, but I didn't participate. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and choose “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve made it to the final each competition since then, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was determined to win this year.

The air guitar community is like a family. Our guiding principle is ‘Make air, not war’. It may seem funny, but it’s a true ethos.

The competition itself is competitive but uplifting. Competitors have 60 seconds to put their all – explosive energy, flawless imitation, stage magnetism – on an invisible guitar. Adjudicators rate you on a point range from four to six. In the case of a tie, there’s an “air-off” between the last two competitors: a tune begins and you create on the spot.

Training is crucial. I selected an a metal group song for my performance. I listened to it on a loop for a long time. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my legs prepared enough to bound, my fingers quick enough to imitate guitar parts and my upper body set for those bends and jumps. When the event came, I could feel the song in my soul.

When the show concluded, the scores came in, and I had tied with the winner from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was occasion for an final showdown. We faced off to the Guns N’ Roses hit by the rock group. As the music started, I felt relieved because it was a tune I recognized, and more than anything I was so eager to perform one more time. When they announced I’d emerged victorious, the venue erupted.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I blacked out from the excitement. Then everyone started singing the song that well-known track and hoisted me on to their backs. Justin Howard – alias his performer title – a former champion and one of my closest friends, was hugging me. I wept. I was Finland’s first air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The previous Finnish champion, Markus “Black Raven” Vainionpää, was also present. He bestowed upon me the warmest embrace and said it was “long overdue”.

This worldwide group is like a support system. Our guiding saying is “Make air, not war”. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief. Competitors come from globally, and all involved is supportive and encouraging. Before you go on stage, each contestant comes and hugs you. Then for one minute you’re free to be yourself, humorous, the ultimate music icon in the world.

Besides that, I'm a drummer and musician in a musical act with my sibling called the band name, referencing the football manager, as we’re influenced by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been working in bars for a few years now, and I direct short films and performance clips. The title hasn’t altered my routine significantly but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I wish it brings more creative work. Oulu will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are promising opportunities.

At present, I’m just grateful: for the community, for the opportunity to play, and for that budding enthusiast who read an article and thought, “That's for me.”