Back when I was 10, I discovered a story in my community gazette about the Global Air Guitar Contest, that happens every year in my hometown of Oulu, Finland. My parents had volunteered at the very first contest starting from 1996 – mom handed out flyers, dad sorted the music. From that point, domestic competitions have been staged globally, with the winners assembling in Oulu each August.
Initially, I requested permission if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the show was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They believed it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was set on it.
In my youth, I was always miming air guitar, miming along to the iconic rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. My parents were lovers of music – dad loved Springsteen and the Irish rock band. AC/DC was the first band I discovered on my own. the lead guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my idol.
When I stepped on stage, I performed my act to the band's that classic track. The crowd started shouting “Angus”, reminiscent of the live recording, and it hit me: this must be to be a music icon. I made it to the finals, performing to a large audience in Oulu’s market square, and I was addicted. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.
After that I stopped. I was a referee one year, and opened for the show on another occasion, but I stayed out of the contest. I went back at 18, tried a few different stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I embraced it and make “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve reached the finals every year since 2022, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was set to claim victory this year.
The worldwide group is like a close-knit group. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. Though it appears humorous, but it’s a true ethos.
The competition itself is intense but joyful. Competitors have 60 seconds to deliver maximum effort – dynamic presence, perfect mime, rock star charisma – on an nonexistent axe. Adjudicators score you on a grading system from 4.0 to 6.0. When it's a draw, there’s an “showdown” between the remaining participants: a tune begins and you freestyle.
Training is crucial. I picked an the band Avenged Sevenfold song for my act. I had it on repeat for a long time. I stretched constantly, trying to get my lower body flexible enough to leap, my fingers nimble enough to imitate guitar parts and my spine prepared for those bends and jumps. By the time competition day dawned, I could internalize the track in my bones.
When the show concluded, the results were tallied, and I had matched with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was occasion for an air-off. We went head-to-head to that classic rock anthem by the rock group. Once the track began, I felt at ease because it was familiar to me, and primarily I was so eager to have another go. When they announced I’d triumphed, the venue went wild.
My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from shock. Then everyone started chanting the song Rockin’ in the Free World and hoisted me on to their arms. Justin Howard – AKA Nordic Thunder – a past winner and one of my dear companions, was hugging me. I cried. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The previous Finnish champion, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He offered me the warmest embrace and said it was “about damn time”.
The air guitar community is like a family. The phrase we live by is “Create music, not conflict”. It sounds silly, but it’s a true way of life. People come from globally, and all involved is helpful and motivating. Before you go on stage, all participants comes and hugs you. Then for 60 seconds you’re able to be free, humorous, the top performer in the world.
Besides that, I'm a percussionist and string player in a group with my brother called the band name, named after the football manager, as we’re influenced by British music genres. I’ve been working in bars for a couple of years, and I direct mini movies and music videos. Winning hasn’t altered my routine significantly but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I wish it results in more creative work. The city will be a cultural hub soon, so there are promising opportunities.
For now, I’m just appreciative: for the community, for the ability to compete, and for that budding enthusiast who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”
