I Became the Imaginary Guitar World Champion

Back when I was 10, I read about a article in my hometown newspaper about the Global Air Guitar Contest, held annually every year in my birthplace of Oulu, Finland. My parents had participated at the pioneering contest starting from 1996 – my mum gave out flyers, my father sorted the music. Ever since, national championships have been held in many nations, with the winners assembling in Oulu annually.

Initially, I inquired with my family if I could compete. They weren't sure at first; the event was in a bar, and there would be many grown-ups. They believed it might be an intimidating atmosphere, but I was determined.

In my youth, I was always “playing” air guitar, pretending to play to the biggest rock tunes with my invisible instrument. My family were enthusiasts – dad loved Bruce Springsteen and U2. the Australian rockers was the first band I stumbled upon myself. the lead guitarist, the frontman guitarist, was my idol.

Upon entering the spotlight, I did my routine to the band's the song Whole Lotta Rosie. The audience started yelling “Angus”, similar to the album track, and it hit me: so this is to be a guitar hero. I made it to the finals, performing to hundreds of people in the town square, and I was captivated. I was dubbed “Little Angus” that day.

Then I took a break. I was a adjudicator one year, and kicked off the show another time, but I didn't participate. I returned at 18, experimented with various stage names, but fans continued using “Little Angus” so I embraced it and choose “The Angus” as my performance alias. I’ve reached the finals annually from 2022 onward, and in 2023 I placed second, so I was resolved 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 may seem funny, but it’s a real philosophy.

The event is intense but joyful. Contestants have 60 seconds to give everything – high-powered performance, precise mimicry, performance charm – on an nonexistent axe. Adjudicators score you on a scale from 4.0 to 6.0. If scores are equal, there’s an “showdown” between the final two contestants: a song plays and you create on the spot.

Getting ready is key. I selected an a metal group song for my performance. I played it repeatedly for multiple weeks. I did regular stretches, trying to get my lower body flexible enough to leap, my fingers fast enough to mimic solos and my upper body prepared for those gestures and hops. When the big day dawned, I could internalize the track in my soul.

Once all acts were done, the points were announced, and I had drawn with the winner from Japan, the Japanese titleholder – it was moment for an tiebreaker. We faced off to Sweet Child o’ Mine by the iconic band. Once the track began, I felt comforted because it was one that I knew, and primarily I was so eager to perform one more time. Once the results were read I’d won, the area erupted.

The moment is hazy. I think I lost consciousness from surprise. Then all present started performing Neil Young’s that well-known track and raised me up on to their backs. A former champion – alias his stage name – a former champion and one of my closest friends, was hugging me. I wept. I was the inaugural from Finland air guitar world champion in a quarter-century. The earlier winner from Finland, Markus “Black Raven” Vainionpää, was in attendance as well. He gave me the warmest embrace and said it was “finally happening”.

This worldwide group is like a support system. Our guiding saying is “Create music, not conflict”. It sounds silly, but it’s a real philosophy. Competitors come from all over the world, and each person is helpful and motivating. Prior to performing, all participants shows support. Then for 60 seconds you’re able to be free, silly, the biggest rock star 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 British music genres. I’ve been working in bars for a short time, and I produce mini movies and performance clips. 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. Oulu will be a European capital of culture the coming year, so there are great prospects.

For now, I’m just thankful: for the network, for the opportunity to play, and for that young child who found a story and thought, “I'd love to try that.”

Dana Hawkins
Dana Hawkins

A cybersecurity specialist with over a decade of experience in software patching and vulnerability management.