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When I was just 10, I read about a feature in my hometown newspaper about the Global Air Guitar Contest, that happens every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. Mom and Dad had participated at the very first contest starting from 1996 – mom handed out flyers, my father managed the music. Ever since, country-level contests have been staged globally, with the champions gathering in Oulu every summer.

Back then, I inquired with my family if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the event was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They felt it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was resolved.

During childhood, I was always performing air guitar, miming along to the iconic rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My parents were music fans – dad loved Springsteen and the Irish rock band. the band AC/DC was the first band I found independently. the guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my hero.

Upon entering the spotlight, I performed my act to the band's Whole Lotta Rosie. The audience started shouting “Angus”, reminiscent of the album track, and it dawned on me: this is what it feels like to be a music icon. I reached the championship, competing to hundreds of people in the public plaza, and I was captivated. I earned the moniker “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a adjudicator one year, and started the show once more, but I stayed out of the contest. I went back at 18, tested out several stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and choose “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve made it to the final annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I came second, so I was determined to take the title this year.

The worldwide group is like a family. The saying we live by is ‘Make air, not war’. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief.

The event is high-energy yet fun. Competitors have 60 seconds to put their all – high-powered performance, precise mimicry, rock star charisma – on an nonexistent axe. Adjudicators score you on a scale from 4.0 to 6.0. If scores are equal, there’s an “air-off” between the remaining participants: a song plays and you freestyle.

Training is crucial. I picked an Avenged Sevenfold song for my act. I had it on repeat for weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my legs prepared enough to bound, my hands quick enough to mimic solos and my back ready for those bends and jumps. Once the event dawned, I could sense the music in my bones.

Once all acts were done, the scores came in, and I had matched with the winner from Japan, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was occasion for an air-off. We competed directly to the Guns N’ Roses hit by the rock group. As the music started, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and primarily I was so thrilled to play again. Once the results were read I’d triumphed, the area went wild.

My memory is blurry. I think I blacked out from the excitement. Then everyone started singing the classic tune that well-known track and lifted me on to their arms. Justin Howard – AKA his performer title – a former champion and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I cried. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar global winner in 25 years. The prior titleholder, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He bestowed upon me the warmest embrace and said it was “finally happening”.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. The phrase we live by is “Create music, not conflict”. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief. People come from all over the world, and everyone is helpful and motivating. Before you go on stage, every competitor comes and hugs you. Then for one minute you’re free to be free, playful, the biggest rock star in the world.

I’m also a percussionist and musician in a musical act with my sibling called the group title, inspired by Gareth Southgate, as we’re influenced by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been serving drinks for a few years now, and I create short films and song visuals. Winning hasn’t altered my routine too much but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I aspire it results in more innovative opportunities. My hometown will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are great prospects.

For now, I’m just appreciative: for the network, for the opportunity to play, and for that young child who picked up a newspaper and thought, “That's for me.”