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Back when I was 10, I discovered a article in my hometown newspaper about the World Air Guitar Competition, which take place every year in my native city of Oulu, Finland. My family had volunteered at the inaugural contest starting from 1996 – my mum distributed flyers, my father organized the music. From that point, domestic competitions have been held in many nations, with the winners converging in Oulu each August.

Initially, I requested permission if I could participate. They weren't sure at first; the show was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They felt it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was set on it.

During childhood, I was always miming air guitar, acting out to the iconic rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. Mom and Dad were music fans – my father loved The Boss and the Irish rock band. AC/DC was the original act I discovered on my own. Angus Young, the lead guitarist, was my idol.

When I stepped on stage, I did my routine to AC/DC’s that classic track. The audience started shouting “Angus”, similar to the album track, and it hit me: this is what it feels like to be a music icon. I advanced to the last round, performing to a large audience in Oulu’s market square, 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 participate. I went back at 18, tested out several stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I accepted it fully and adopt “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve qualified for the last round each competition since then, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was set to win this year.

The air guitar community is like a close-knit group. The saying we live by is ‘Create music, not conflict’. It sounds silly, but it’s a genuine belief.

The event is competitive but uplifting. Participants have a short window to give everything – explosive energy, flawless imitation, stage magnetism – on an imaginary instrument. Adjudicators score you on a scale from a specific numeric range. In the case of a tie, there’s an “air-off” between the last two competitors: a tune begins and you freestyle.

Preparation is everything. I picked an a metal group song for my performance. I had it on repeat for weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my legs loose enough to jump, my fingers nimble enough to imitate guitar parts and my upper body set for those bends and jumps. By the time competition day arrived, I could feel the song in my bones.

After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had drawn with the winner from Japan, Yuta “Sudo-chan” Sudo – it was time for an air-off. We faced off to the Guns N’ Roses hit by Guns N’ Roses. When I heard the song, I felt at ease because it was one that I knew, and primarily I was so eager to play again. Once the results were read I’d emerged victorious, the venue went wild.

It's all a bit fuzzy. I think I lost consciousness from the excitement. Then the crowd started performing the song that well-known track and hoisted me on to their backs. A former champion – alias his stage name – a past winner and one of my dear companions, was hugging me. I shed tears. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar global winner in two and a half decades. The prior titleholder, the earlier victor, was in attendance as well. He offered me the biggest hug and said it was “about damn time”.

This worldwide group is like a close-knit group. Our motto is “Make air, not war”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a genuine belief. Competitors come from many countries, and all involved is supportive and encouraging. Prior to performing, each contestant offers an embrace. Then for one minute you’re allowed to be uninhibited, silly, the top performer in the world.

I’m also a drummer and guitarist in a group with my family member called the group title, named after Gareth Southgate, as we’re inspired by UK rock and post-punk. I’ve been bartending for a few years now, and I produce short films and performance clips. The title hasn’t changed my day-to-day life drastically but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I wish it leads to more innovative opportunities. The city will be a cultural hub next year, so there are great prospects.

For now, I’m just grateful: for the network, for the ability to compete, and for that little kid who found a story and thought, “I want to do that.”