I Became the Imaginary Guitar Global Winner
At the age of 10, I read about a story in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, that happens every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My parents had helped out at the very first contest since 1996 – my mother gave out flyers, my dad organized the music. From that point, national championships have been staged globally, with the titleholders converging in Oulu each August.
At the time, I asked my parents if I could enter. Initially they had doubts; the show was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They felt it might be an overwhelming atmosphere, but I was resolved.
In my youth, I was always performing air guitar, acting out to the biggest rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My parents were lovers of music – my dad loved Bruce Springsteen and the Irish rock band. AC/DC was the first band I discovered on my own. the lead guitarist, the lead guitarist, was my inspiration.
When I stepped on stage, I did my routine to the band's that classic track. The spectators started yelling “Angus”, just like the album track, and it dawned on me: this is what it feels like to be a rock star. I made it to the finals, competing to crowds in the public plaza, and I was hooked. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.
Later I paused. I was a judge one year, and kicked off the show once more, but I didn’t compete. I went back at 18, tested out several stage names, but everyone still referred to me as “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and make “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve made it to the final every year since 2022, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was resolved to win this year.
The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. Our motto is ‘Make air, not war’. It may seem funny, but it’s a real philosophy.
The event is intense but joyful. Participants have 60 seconds to put their all – dynamic presence, precise mimicry, rock star charisma – on an imaginary instrument. Judges evaluate you on a scale from four to six. In the case of a tie, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the remaining participants: a tune begins and you create on the spot.
Preparation is everything. I picked an a metal group song for my act. I played it repeatedly for multiple weeks. I practiced flexibility, trying to get my limbs prepared enough to jump, my hands nimble enough to copy riffs and my spine set for those bends and jumps. By the time competition day arrived, I could sense the music in my soul.
Once all acts were done, the scores came in, and I had drawn with the Japanese champion, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was moment for an tiebreaker. We faced off to that classic rock anthem by the iconic band. Once the track began, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so eager to perform one more time. When they announced I’d emerged victorious, the area went wild.
It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I zoned out from surprise. Then the crowd started performing Neil Young’s that well-known track and lifted me on to their shoulders. A former champion – alias Nordic Thunder – a past winner and one of my best pals, was hugging me. I wept. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar international titleholder in two and a half decades. The earlier winner from Finland, the former champion, was there, too. He gave me the biggest hug and said it was “finally happening”.
Our global network is like a support system. Our motto is “Make air, not war”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a genuine belief. People come from many countries, and each person is supportive and encouraging. Before you go on stage, each contestant comes and hugs you. Then for a brief period you’re able to be free, humorous, the ultimate music icon in the world.
Besides that, I'm a percussionist and guitarist in a group with my family member called the band name, named after the sports figure, as we’re inspired by Britpop and new wave. I’ve been bartending for a short time, and I produce mini movies and song visuals. The title 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. The city will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are great prospects.
At present, I’m just grateful: for the group, for the chance to perform, and for that little kid who found a story and thought, “I want to do that.”