Random music from my laptop. A supposedly random selection of 1300 songs.

1) Ben Webster. "Early Session Hop." As typical for this epoch, the soloists sound hipper than the background, arrangements, rhythm sections. Webster didn't get much of a chance to make a statement.

2) Ella Fitzgerald. "My Heart Stood Still." (Rogers and Hart Songbook). A perfect rendition of that lyric, that perfect line "My heart stood still."

3) BW. "Linger A While." This sounds like the same corny rhythm section. Fire the drummer! I cannot rate Webster with Coleman Hawkins. There's not that fire in the belly. The two solos after him sound rinky-dink. They're nice enough in a period-style sort of way, I guess, with those mutes in the bells of trumpets and trombones.

3) Antonio Gamoneda. The first part of Libro del frío, "Geórgicas." Not "music," I guess. I memorized this book of poetry almost entire a few years back. "Esta casa estuvo dedicada a la labranza y la muerte." What will my computer give me next?

4) Miles Davis. "So What." A live version, from the Blackhawk in San Francisco, a little faster than the Kind of Blue version. He goes on long in this solo, leaving a lot of space. Then the sax come in, not particularly intensely. Hank Mobley is good, but not quite good enough for this group. Mobley is to Coltrane as Webster is to Hawkins.

5) Cal Tjader. "Cal's Bluedo." Too "space-age bachelor pad" for me, tonight. That was a surprise. It doesn't quite get the Latin feel it's striving for. Lose the shaker.

6) Cannoball Adderley. "Them Dirty Blues." I believe this has Nat on cornet. Now I have to decide whether I really like Cannonball Adderley. This two-feel on Nat's solo is not really doing it for me. It's not really swinging. Maybe it just doesn't match my mood today.

7) Art Tatum. "I've got a right to sing the blues." He's showing them how to do it. First a rubato chorus to set up the tension, then a chorus in time, with lots of ornaments. I used to think this was all improvised when I was a kid, but it has the feel for me now of a worked-up arrangement. Nothing wrong with that. I like the architecture of it, in so short a space.

8) Bach. Allemande from Suite # 5. I heard Pau Casals on Youtube the other day, so now Yo Yo Ma has been demoted.

9) Monte adentro, "Igualito a ti," off one of those putumayo world music collections. That doesn't hit the spot either. Something perfunctory about it. This music has to groove or it has nothing.

10) Lee Konitz. "317 East 32nd St." I love Lee Konitz, but lose the clunky bass player, the chunky drums. And Konitz's ringy timbre wears out its welcome. What's the meaning of that address?

And the winner is ... Art Tatum!