I loved Ming. It wasn't true love, nor was it terribly passionate, but I loved that stuffed cat in the intense way that children seem to love inanimate objects. People constantly informed me that it was, in fact, a bear, but I wouldn't have any of it. Ming was a cat, dammit, and I took him everywhere with me. He was a certain comfort to me as a child, I suppose, a constant element in a world full of surprises-- the blanket to my Linus, as it were.

By the time my parents finally convinced me to let Ming go, consigning him forever to the "memories" box in the closet, he was nothing more than a thinly connected web of fabric, nearly devoid of stuffing, missing an eye, and held together only by the sweater that my aunt Shirley had so graciously knitted for him. But while everyone else saw a heap of rags, I still saw Ming, my constant childhood companion. Letting go was not easy.

Years after childhood, most of us having long given up our blankies and precious stuffed animals, we tend to find other things to cling to-- loved ones, pets, etc. But secretly, I think each one of us needs a warm place of our own, a constant source of calm that we can retreat to when the need strikes us. For those inclined to use music to find that warm place, the American Analog Set are a good start.

The American Analog Set make the kind of music that wraps around you like a home-knit sweater-- the sleeves may be a little irregular, but the elements can't get you. And on top of that, it's totally one of a kind, just like that sweater. Low, Seely, and the New Year played through a pillow are good points of reference for the American Analog Set, but over the course of four albums and a rarities compilation, the band has grown far too unique to bare direct comparisons.

This band is the only one I've heard that can open an album with a song called "Punk as Fuck" and make it feel like you're curled up next to a fire with a good book and a stuffed bear from your childhood that you insist is a cat. Vibes swell around you, guitars meditate in the background, and then the vocals enter, a soothing tenor calling you out of the real world and into that warm place. Brushed drums and barely-there bass propel the proceedings with measured patience. There's nothing urgent about this music-- it flows at its own pace.

From there, Know by Heart flows gracefully through a series of warm textures and somnambulant melodies, much like the band's past efforts. Thankfully, though, the band have avoided getting stuck in a holding pattern, leaving their old trademark Farfisas in mothballs, and instead pulling out a phalanx of alternately soothing and buzzing organs and Rhodes pianos, changing up the sound often. The band also toys with a few new tempos and meters.

Overall, the effect of these changes is that Know by Heart offers a great many more standout moments than any other American Analog Set album, but winds up feeling a bit less consistent as a result. That's a small price to pay, though, when you get songs like "Million Young," with its brisk rhythm and buzzy organ, or "Aaron & Maria," which aims to add another "youngsters go off to the Big City" chapter to the Great American Songbook. Warm, clean guitars surreptitiously sink monster hooks into your cerebellum as laid-back drums gently urge the song to its conclusion. Head-bobbing ensues.

There's something extremely admirable about music that demands to be heard by whispering, never rising to a clatter or resorting to petulant whining to attract attention. Instead, the American Analog Set create quietly engaging hymns that make you want to pay attention. If you should choose to ignore it because it's not making a racket, well, hey, that's more for me.

Know by Heart ends pretty much exactly where it should, with the pulsing "We're Computerizing and We Just Don't Need You Anymore." Lyrically, the song holds an all-too-familiar tale of technology replacing heart, but the music is what really gets me. The band cast a glance back toward their old sound here, while inconspicuously inserting a cold synth low in the mix, suggesting that the band themselves may be headed into the brave new world on future releases. But even if that world doesn't yield rewards as pleasing as this, it will probably bare giving a listen to. In the meantime, Know by Heart will remain a warm, reliable source of calm in a loud, confusing world.

-Joe Tangari