Star-Studded Blues Triumph at Križanke (2013)

Arhiv Arhiv Last updated 11 June 2026

Venue: Ljubljana / Križanke / Slovenia
Concert date: 24.07.2013
Attendance: 3,500
Ticket price: €32.00 / €70.00

Many people link him solely to the image of the neurotic but brilliant pill-popping addict, the extraordinary Dr. House from the series House; some know him as the comic sidekick in Blackadder; only a few as a brilliant musical virtuoso with enough knowledge of the treasures of music’s past to be called a living encyclopedia of blues, jazz and good music in general. That was the case until recently, but with the release of his second album Didn’t It Rain, Hugh Laurie confirmed that his musical potential is more potent than many expected, and that the lanky Brit with the sharply chiseled face has plenty of aces up his sleeve to carry on and expand the body of work already hinted at by his debut Let Them Talk. Star status and the prestige of fame aside, it has to be said – this 54-year-old man of many talents is an exceptional musical virtuoso who also knows how to pick the right collaborators. The Copper Bottom Band is a lineup that knows how to serve up a sensually played, old-timey blues sound, though the fame and recognition they got from rubbing shoulders with a notorious celebrity they probably couldn’t have reached without a big name up front for the media and spotlights to stick to. Let’s leave the details aside for now and focus instead on the tragedy of someone sealing all his future steps with a single role: the name of the Vicodin-soaked genius medical mastermind, a fictional hero who brought him millions but clings to him like an eternal echo, or a huge stain that covers up and hides anything different, anything better.

The story of Laurie’s visit to Slovenia unfolded in a similar way. The concert was announced all of a sudden, after lots of rumors and speculation, and more than the album release, what mattered, of course, was the finished product, the old laurel, the fact that Dr. House was coming to our little corner of Alpine paradise. So, unsurprisingly, an endless crowd of gawkers gathered in front of Križanke, people hungry for proximity to the famous and important, fans of illusions from the small screen, and among them only a few lone souls who had come to treat not just their eyes but their ears too in the auditorium of Ljubljana’s sanctuary of prestigious musical pleasures. At least the kind who knew what to expect. Debates about favorite episodes of the famous series were like bad sherbet that sits heavy in your stomach, like an overdose of sweets you may already be sick of but can’t avoid. But let’s leave that aside, whatever the reason an endless crowd of young, old, slightly less old and clueless people was squeezing into the courtyard of Križanke, the fact is the concert was completely sold out. It’s also true that few of them evidently go to gigs often, so with glances at their watches, and at tickets that gave eight in the evening as the start time, they stoked their dissatisfaction more and more as nine o’clock approached. The stage, ruled over by a round sign reading The Copper Bottom Band, was decked out with numerous antique lamps with side shades, and the setup reminded me a bit of Kreslin’s intimate lighting from SiTi Teatra, but despite the lovely scenography there was no action, with music from the speakers filling the void of nothing happening. Applause for absolutely nothing, whistling, then grumbling to the fifth power, and impatience reaching boiling point, until it was all interrupted by the arrival of two sound techs in bathrobes, who checked the tuning of the strings, and then it began.

First the house lights dimmed, then the venue greeted the band’s arrival on stage with thunderous applause. Round-faced Jay Bellerose took his seat behind the drums, the side of the stage was taken over by multi-instrumentalist and above all guitarist Kevin Breit, a horn section in the form of saxophonist and clarinetist Robby Marshall and trombonist Elizabeth Lea, and double bassist David Piltch; barely noticeable, the backing and lead vocalists Gaby Moreno and Jean McClain took their places at the microphones in the background, and last to take the stage was the man for whom some people paid a few extra bucks for their tickets – Mr. Hugh Laurie in person. After a hysterical welcome from the crowd, things kicked off with a cover of Iko Iko, written by The Dixie Cups. »Talkin’ ’bout / Hey now / Hey now /Iko iko an nay / Jockomo feena ah na nay / Jockomo feena nay« are lyrics that maybe not all of us understand, but we all remember the eighties, when the famous refrain was heard on practically every radio station. Iko Iko is actually a song from the land of Laurie’s beloved Mississippi, from New Orleans, and it tells of a conflict between two tribes of Mardi Gras Indians, and James ‘Sugar Boy’ Crawford had already written it back in 1953, back then under the title Jock-A-Mo. A promising opening, then, promising a good time, but with a hidden educational undertone and above all a return to the bosom of New Orleans’ past. After the roaring applause came Laurie’s: »Dobra vičer Slovenija,« and with those words in charming broken Slovenian the charming star instantly won over the crowd, who immediately forgot and forgave his late start. Then a bit of stand-up comedy. A bit about how, as an Englishman, he can’t speak foreign languages, while we, as a small nation, master English, no. And also how many people wonder what an actor is doing in the world of professional music, because it’s like a dentist piloting a plane. In the latter case everyone would probably be a lot more worried, but when Laurie is backed by a seasoned, routine crew of well-oiled musical cats (and she-cats), there’s nothing to fear. That the mood needed building on and the iron striking while it’s hot was confirmed by the rest of the show. The crowd had to be drawn in, and above all tested on how well it can sing the verse: »C’mon baby let the good times roll«. Let The Good Times Roll is a Ray Charles song, and in the Shirley & Lee version Laurie finds inspiration for combining elements of his piano chops, which the backing band The Copper Bottom Band complements beautifully, and you can immediately feel how tight all seven members of the supporting cast are, and above all that Laurie’s hypnotic gestures at the piano, decked out with Slovenian, American, Canadian and English flags, can rouse a voice or two even from Slovenia’s conservatively tightened throats. And the lanky fellow with the velvet voice and exceptional ear greets the latter, seemingly surprised.

That the main reason for this visit to Slovenia is presenting the latest album Didn’t It Rain is proven by the rest of the concert, as Laurie goes on with a fresh dose of gorgeous musicality. Evenin’ shows the full potential of club-style jazzy blues, which the latest album offers in its outstanding raspy sound, and the first proof of exceptional punch and horn temperament, over just-restrained and fluidly flowing brush strokes on the drums and the piano tones under Laurie’s fingers, comes from the likable and just-right dirty, cheeky trombonist Elizabeth Lea. The illusion of a smoky jazz club, clouds of smoke and dimmed lights fades for a moment as I look at the mass of people who clearly didn’t expect this kind of top-tier quality, refined restrained rhythms and subtle raspiness, so instead of watching I’d rather follow what comes next with my ears. What Kind Of A Man You Are is a rarely heard Ray Charles cover in which the duet of the two backing singers shows off all its vocal talent, while Laurie this time devotes himself solely to the piano. Gaby Moreno and Jean McClain sound gorgeous, full of soul and a gospel touch, and a few lovely telecaster notes under Kevin Breit’s fingers arch very delicately over the whole thing. The whole gets a properly sexy ring, and its compact fullness shows not a single flaw that would give the feeling the stage setup is weak or half-baked anywhere. No less passionate is the soulful standard Day & Night, in which Gaby and Jean take a time machine back to the sixties, and the dirty rhythm is nicely complemented by a bit of Hammond sound and Bellerose’s mischievous rhythmic work, while Kevin swaps the guitar for a banjo this time. After a very promising start comes one of the key moments of the evening. It takes two to tango, as is always clear, and this time, to the sounds of a dirty tango ruled above all by the unsurpassed sensual vocals of Gaby Moreno, who showed off all her Guatemalan temperament and opened up all her vocal registers, she and Laurie performed a Spanish-English dance with the song Kiss Of Fire. To the beat of an extended rhythmic solo in the middle, Laurie and Moreno spin across the stage boards and dance a passionate dance of sensual desire, crowned by the sounds of clarinet and accordion and topped off with the choking, perfectly curved tone of the trombone. Sexy.

After the slightly distracting Junco Partner (I was apparently bothered by the much more naive and bouncy rockabilly meter, which clearly didn’t suit me at that moment, and I’d happily have swapped it for the bluesy Junker Blues), the mood got back on the right trajectory with a song where Jean shines. Send Me To The ‘Lectric Chair. The story of a convict begging the judge to sentence him to death in the electric chair rather than to life in prison. The jazz legend Bessie Smith’s song gets proper weight from Jean’s black vocal, and The Copper Bottom Blues Band adds a little fresher patina than the one from way back in 1927. Who would dare add anything after such a good performance, and at the same time touch something sacred to lovers of Americana – a touch of the eternal king Elvis? Well, actually it’s a cover of a song by the lesser-known Junior Parker, but Elvis left his mark on it too. Laurie tackles Mystery Train with a more sensual, bluesy and less naive rockabilly sound and drives the train of pleasure onward. Covers are a staple of the repertoire of a man who doesn’t have much plumage of his own, but borrowed feathers suit him damn well too.

You Don’t Know My Mind recalls the delta blues manner of the debut Let Them Talk, while a bit of smoky happiness (I’d swear that somewhere around the opening bars of the first verses you could even smell the smoke of homegrown weed) is brought by the song Weed Smoker’s Dream, on which the exceptional Gaby Moreno once again shakes us. Goose-bumped down to the last fiber of our bodies, we all surrender to every beat, every breath, the gentle velvet caress of the vocals of the gorgeous beauty in black, and after a raspy addition from the trombone the new ear orgasm is complete! Then, like a platoon of male counterpoint, all the male members of the band occupy the microphone in the middle of the stage and try to shine with just one guitar and four voices. Lazy River recalls the scene from the film O Brother Where Art Thou and the Soggy Bottom Boys, only the gents this time are more multi-voiced and thoroughly tuned in their multi-vocal coloring. Next comes a raising of glasses of »apple juice« (whisky, actually) and a cute »na zdrovje« to the Slovenian audience, who don’t stay dry-mouthed afterwards, since the drooling over good music goes on in style. After the title track of the latest album, which shakes its hips with a duet of the two mighty vocalists and a dirty five-step blues and soul rhythm, it’s time for a sensual rendition of Careless Love, followed by an exceptional version of Wild Honey, which brings more dynamics to the set again, with organ, piano and danceability, rhythm, drumming virtuosity on just a few skins and cymbals, and poisonously sensual guitar cherries on top, after which there’s nothing more to add or take away, and on top of it all the lovely female vocals and the horn section weave nicely into Laurie’s mulatto vocals (the Brit is as musically white as he is black, all in the same breath), and the layering, despite the rich overflow of breath, runs like a well-oiled machine! And it plows and tills the virgin soil in the minds and ears of every audience thanks to the exceptional choice of songs too. Billy Taylor sang a century ago about how nice it would be to feel completely free, then Nina Simone poured it into ears with the song I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free, and this time both ladies of Laurie’s backing band prove they can measure up to their exceptional predecessors without coming off as ridiculous or obscurely unworthy of the originals. Quite the opposite! And then a bit of final excellence with the song Green Green Rocky Road, where you can feel the last act of the concert is near and that there really couldn’t be much more to add. Or could there? After roaring applause and chants for an encore, a mischievous Laurie, delighted with Slovenia, bounds onto the stage, followed by the whole backing band, who fall into a final stage of ecstasy to the beats of the anthemic Changes. »Everyone is facing changes / No one knows what’s going on. / And everyone is changing places / Still the world keeps moving on. / Love must always change to sorrow? / And everyone must play the game, / Because its here today and gone tomorrow / Still the world goes on the same« are lovely farewell verses, to which the sounds of dixieland, banjo and guitar (this time in Gaby’s hands) attach themselves fittingly, and as the last chords fade during the Chuck Berry cover You Never Can Tell, for many the stampede toward the exits already begins. Those of us who stay see an explosive finale, Laurie theatrically but unaffectedly humorously attempts a few leg kicks that are dangerously high for a man his age, and then comes one last bow and the curtains fall, and Laurie and The Copper Bottoms leave the stage.

I hope not for good, because they’re definitely a gem worth consuming again. I believe that after this Wednesday evening, which stretched deep into the night, Laurie will no longer be just Dr. House for many of those present. He’ll also become a synonym for good, excellent blues music that has balls and style. He’ll become a synonym for excellence and a guarantee of complete concert pleasure, and not only thanks to his star shine. Without the exceptional backing band, who truly deserve a heartfelt standing ovation and full recognition, even a man of his caliber wouldn’t have managed to enchant Križanke so damn completely. And Križanke fell under the spell of triumphant bluesy, jazzy music-making of the most brilliant kind, which could have been even better: in the shelter of some dimly lit, smoky jazz club, where in an atmosphere of perfect resonance with the lyrics and melodies everyone could slip into their own worlds, settle accounts with the dark and their inner demons, and give themselves over to pleasure, sorrow or a feeling of complete happiness. At mass events that’s simply not possible, so call me a snob if you want …