I Am the Imaginary Guitar World Champion
When I was just 10, I discovered a feature in my community gazette about the Air Guitar World Championships, held annually every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. My family had volunteered at the pioneering contest starting from 1996 – mom distributed flyers, dad organized the music. Since then, domestic competitions have been held globally, with the champions converging in Oulu every summer.
Initially, I inquired with my family if I could enter. They weren't sure at first; the event was in a bar, and there would be an older crowd. They felt it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was resolved.
As a kid, I was always miming air guitar, miming along to the biggest rock tunes with my imaginary instrument. My family were music fans – my dad loved Bruce Springsteen and U2. AC/DC was the first band I discovered on my own. Angus Young, the frontman guitarist, was my hero.
Upon entering the spotlight, I performed my act to AC/DC’s that classic track. The audience started yelling “Angus”, similar to the album track, and it struck me: this is what it feels like to be a guitar hero. I reached the championship, competing to hundreds of people in the town square, and I was addicted. I got the nickname “Little Angus” that day.
Later I paused. I was a adjudicator one year, and opened for the show once more, but I didn’t compete. I came back at 18, experimented with various stage names, but people kept calling me “Little Angus” so I decided to own it and choose “The Angus” as my stage name. I’ve qualified for the last round annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I came second, so I was determined to win this year.
The air guitar community is like a family. Our guiding principle is ‘Play air guitar, avoid battles’. Though it appears humorous, but it’s a genuine belief.
The contest is competitive but uplifting. Competitors have 60 seconds to give everything – high-powered performance, precise mimicry, stage magnetism – on an invisible guitar. The panel rate you on a grading system from four to six. In the case of a tie, there’s an “tiebreaker” between the remaining participants: a tune begins and you freestyle.
Training is crucial. I chose an Avenged Sevenfold song for my performance. I played it repeatedly for a long time. I stretched constantly, trying to get my lower body prepared enough to jump, my digits fast enough to mimic solos and my upper body prepared for those moves and leaps. Once the event came, I could sense the music in my being.
After everyone had performed, the scores came in, and I had tied with the titleholder from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was moment for an air-off. We faced off to that classic rock anthem by the rock group. When I heard the song, I felt relieved because it was familiar to me, and more than anything I was so eager to have another go. When they announced I’d won, the square exploded.
The moment is hazy. I think I blacked out from surprise. Then the crowd started chanting Neil Young’s that well-known track and raised me up on to their arms. Justin Howard – also known as his stage name – a previous titleholder and one of my dear companions, was embracing me. I cried. I was Finland’s first air guitar world champion in two and a half decades. The previous Finnish champion, the former champion, was in attendance as well. He bestowed upon me the most heartfelt squeeze and said it was “about damn time”.
The air guitar community is like a family. Our motto is “Create music, not conflict”. Though it appears comical, but it’s a genuine belief. People come from all over the world, and all involved is helpful and motivating. As you prepare to compete, every competitor shows support. Then for 60 seconds you’re allowed to be free, humorous, the ultimate music icon in the world.
I’m also a beat keeper and musician in a musical act with my family member called the group title, referencing Gareth Southgate, as we’re fans of British music genres. I’ve been bartending for a short time, and I direct independent videos and song visuals. Winning hasn’t affected my daily activities too much but I’ve been doing a many interviews, and I wish it brings more creative work. Oulu will be a designated cultural center next year, so there are promising opportunities.
At present, I’m just grateful: for the community, for the opportunity to play, and for that budding enthusiast who picked up a newspaper and thought, “I want to do that.”
