I Am the Imaginary Guitar Global Winner
Back when I was 10, I came across a article 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 back in 1996 – my mum handed out flyers, my father managed the music. Ever since, domestic competitions have been held globally, with the champions assembling in Oulu each August.
Initially, I requested permission if I could compete. Initially they had doubts; the event was in a bar, and there would be a lot of adults. They felt it might be an daunting atmosphere, but I was determined.
As a kid, I was always performing air guitar, miming along to the most popular rock tunes with my make-believe instrument. My parents were enthusiasts – dad loved Springsteen and the Irish rock band. the Australian rockers was the first band I found independently. the guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my idol.
When I stepped on stage, I played my set to the band's that classic track. The audience started shouting “Angus”, reminiscent of the live recording, and it dawned on me: this is what it feels like to be a rock star. I reached the championship, performing to hundreds of people in the town square, and I was hooked. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.
Then I took a break. I was a judge one year, and started the show another time, but I didn’t compete. I went back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and make “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve reached the finals annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I was the runner-up, so I was resolved to win this year.
Our global network is like a close-knit group. Our motto is ‘Make air, not war’. It may seem funny, but it’s a real philosophy.
The competition itself is intense but joyful. Contestants have 60 seconds to give everything – explosive energy, perfect mime, rock star charisma – on an imaginary instrument. The panel score you on a grading system from four to six. In the case of a tie, there’s an “air-off” between the last two competitors: a song plays and you improvise.
Preparation is everything. I picked an a metal group song for my routine. I had it on repeat for weeks. I stretched constantly, trying to get my legs flexible enough to bound, my fingers quick enough to copy riffs and my back ready for those bends and jumps. By the time the big day dawned, I could feel the song in my being.
After everyone had performed, the results were tallied, and I had tied with the Japanese champion, a competitor known as Sudo-chan – it was moment for an final showdown. We went head-to-head to Sweet Child o’ Mine by the rock group. As the music started, I felt comforted because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so thrilled to have another go. When they announced I’d triumphed, the square erupted.
The moment is hazy. I think I zoned out from shock. Then all present started chanting the classic tune the anthem Rockin' in the Free World and raised me up on to their shoulders. Justin Howard – AKA his stage name – a previous titleholder and one of my best pals, was holding me. I shed tears. I was the first Finnish air guitar world champion in 25 years. The earlier winner from Finland, the earlier victor, was there, too. He gave me the warmest embrace and said it was “about damn time”.
Our global network is like a family. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. It may seem humorous, but it’s a genuine belief. People come from all over the world, and all involved is supportive and encouraging. Prior to performing, every competitor shows support. Then for one minute you’re allowed to be yourself, playful, the top performer in the world.
Besides that, I'm a beat keeper and musician in a musical act with my brother called the Southgates, referencing the football manager, as we’re fans of Britpop and new wave. I’ve been working in bars for a short time, and I create mini movies and song visuals. The title hasn’t altered my routine drastically but I’ve been doing a lot of press, and I aspire it leads to more creative work. My hometown will be a cultural hub the coming year, so there are great prospects.
Currently, I’m just thankful: for the group, for the chance to perform, and for that little kid who found a story and thought, “I want to do that.”
