The first piano sounds produced by the young Gerluz were far from musical, but they had a steady beat and that was all the dancers required, so he was given encouragement and repaid their kindness and tolerance with years of the most wretched experimentation. But as long as he kept it rhythmical no one would complain because then they could "have dance."

When he was 17 both of Gerluz’s parents were killed in a tragic donkey cart accident. Without family structure Gerluz’s world collapsed. The landlord evicted him from his home. No one in the poverty-stricken town could afford an extra mouth to feed so he was forced to make his own way in the world. The only thing he wanted to do in the world was to play the piano and in his home town there were no paying jobs for piano players. He wrapped his worldly belongings in a blanket and started to walk to the big city where the piano came from. Surely, if they had pianos, they would need piano players.

In the city it was not as simple as he had hoped. Eventually, he was able to able to convince a kind-hearted madam to allow him to entertain the guests in her establishment. It was here his skills were polished. He was exposed to people who knew music was supposed to sound like and his instruction began anew. The kindly innocence of the villagers was replaced by the worldly opinions of the denizens of the wearied and worn little brothel.

Though the criticism may have been harsh at first, Gerluz expanded his knowledge and repertoire, learned how to read music and became what he now calls “a real Piano player.” In the years since, Gerluz has traveled throughout the E.U. playing in brothels and bars on what he refers to as “the slowest world tour in existence, now in it’s third decade.” In 2005 his unscheduled tour jumped the Atlantic to the U.S.. One of these days he may be playing in an establishment near you.