"I saw my Dad taking things apart – like the washing machine," he says.

"I was also interested in taking things apart but it was the piano that fascinated me most. Dad was never musical but Mum played the piano and I grew up with classical music."

Today, Leach is part of a dying breed, but his job is the result of a gift, the art of piano tuning by ear. His relationship with the piano is a kind of ongoing love affair, one that began when he was 15, and decided what he wanted to do with his life.

"There are thousands of bits working together to make music," Leach says. "When you run your fingers across the keyboard all the hammers dance in front of you – it's quite magical. Many people think the piano is a strung instrument but it's a percussion instrument because the hammer strikes the string."

Leach, who admits to being a perfectionist, feels an emotional affinity with not only piano tuning, but also the crafting of older handmade pianos.

"The time that went into making the older piano is just incredible," he says. "It would have been a team of people – not a machine pumping out the parts."

He says it's common for people to have an affinity with their piano.

"They see their piano as somewhere between a family member and the family pet. There's a soul sitting in the corner of the room – they even name their pianos. Bertie and Becky Beckstein, Stella the Steck and Kenny the Kawai are examples."

Most pianos can be improved, but sadly, there can come a time when the owner must say goodbye.

"When it's ready to go – condemned – it's tears," Leach says. "Although sometimes they can be restored, the cost often outweighs its worth."

Dead pianos often go to the dump – or get sold – and when Leach turns up to tune them he has to repeat the same bad news to the new owners.

And he knows what he's talking about, having graduated with a Bachelor of Music from Canberra School of Music in piano performance.

"You know quite quickly who's going to make it onto the concert stage," Leach says. "Only a very small percentage in all conservatoriums across the world will make it. The rest of us have to work out what's next, and that opens up accompaniment, directing choirs, teaching, and so on."

When he tried other options like selling pianos, he found he didn't like it because he "wasn't enough of a shark".

"Then I met Ron Keirs, a piano tuner at Braidwood, who was keen to take someone on, so sweeping floors, making tea and polishing brass and cabinets was the beginning of my four-year apprenticeship.

"I tune by ear," Leach says. "Ron was trained by ear and he trained me. There are a lot of electronic tuners out there but the craft is in the feel of things. You can get any computer to tell you what's perfect but it's in the feel of the tuning block."

Leach points to the mass of inner bits and pieces and explains their complexities, and while it takes time to understand the way pianos work, and can take many years to learn the art of piano tuning, it's vital to have an ear and a feel for the instrument from the outset.

"Coming back to the computer, the result just isn't the same," Leach says. "The computer can tune different types and sizes of pianos, but the human ear is so much more accurate to what sounds right for different instruments, particular types of music like warmer, old-style classical music, compared with louder contemporary musical interpretations. People who use computers would argue differently."

Piano tuning is very physically demanding, and, like professional dancers and musicians, looking after your body is essential.

"My first piano took me a total of six hours to tune and I was exhausted," Leach says. "Now after 10 years, I can do four and five days a week tuning and travelling in between.

"I like the idea of a career to the grave. The older piano tuners say they never retire. I'm mid-thirties now but many are mid-forties and have had enough. They hadn't learned restoration and other diverse skills that keep you interested.

"It's not a lonely profession because I meet new people every day. These people are often musical and there's usually an interesting connection."

Leach tunes all the pianos at the Canberra School of Music and will often be sitting backstage waiting to retune during concert intervals.

"I regularly care for their three main Steinways, pianos at the jazz school as well as all the teaching pianos," he says. "I see them like the Formula One car – they're expected to be perfect and get tuned every time they're performed on. One concert can mean three tunes."

Unfortunately for the average punter, and for people like Leach, piano-tuning is an unregulated industry.

"Anyone could advertise that they tune pianos – you can even do a course online, which I don't understand because it's so hands on when you learn ... you can't do it from a screen," he says.

According to Leach, at one stage there were 16 tuners in Canberra, but now there are only four.

"One day I may take on an apprentice, but I hesitate because of the legalities around it," he says.

"It's a mentoring role and I would love to give back. I was given it for free and Ron was given it and passed it on to me."