If there’s one call we generally don’t get to make ourselves, it’s how things end. It’s only human, then, to fixate on when the curtain might fall, to table all those loose ends and might-have-beens. But it’s something most bands don’t consider until their time is almost up – there are more ruptures and slow marches into obsolescence than there are neat and tidy farewells. In a few months Gulch will stop existing. The idea is that the short-lived Bay Area hardcore greats will go out on their own terms, at the peak of their powers, and with their legacy intact. It’s a hard-headed call, certainly a gutting one for fans who will never see them play live, but it’s not without a sense of grim romance. This band you love, this shirtless, black jeans-clad, gut-churning ba...