I was a late arrival to the Mark Everett fan club. My bad luck. Once in a while, you find an artist who speaks to you. Who seems to be like you in ways that are uncanny. When it comes to Everett, I can't help but think it's his ability to write from a very genuine place -- to strum the strings of our common humanity in an original way. End Times is no exception. Some of the songs take a little time to get your ears and head around, but the deep pleasures are well worth the effort. At under three minutes long, Little Bird is a profound elegy to lost love, with a striking, repeated line that's beautiful in its simplicity and delivery: "God damn. I miss that girl." I Need a Mother oozes late night, brutal honesty -- told like that last truth that finally emerges, but only after a tortuous relationship has left you a husk. Those are just two of the gems. End Times reminds me of two other things I love: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Beck's Sea Change. They're each different creatures, but they roam the same dark countryside where it's hard to tell whether you're seeing the slender threads of dawn or the final glimmer of dusk.