Low-Point Theory: A moment (or absence of an expected moment) from which a story can be understood in relief or contrast; like the canyon that forces an awe-inspiring angle to better appreciate the mountain’s grandeur.
A perfect example of this High-Point corollary comes from Guy Clark. Along with wife Susanna, Guy was half of the first couple of Nashville (well possibly one-third if you consider the complicated love triangle with Townes Van Zandt; to whit, Steve Earle once mused, “the relationship between Susanna and Townes, nobody talked about because it was a little too intimate to be in the same room with sometimes. And nobody brought up questions nobody wanted the answer to.”). Guy had been poking around the folk and/or country scenes for over a decade prior to releasing Old No. 1. Far from an unsure debut, this album included mega-hits like LA Freeway, Desperados Waiting for a Train and the tune that best employs Low-Point storytelling.
Like any good song about love, Let Him Roll chronicles the unrequited kind. The song begins with a descent that feels like stumbling our way down the canyon-shaped life of our protagonist (introduced as a “wino”). Through drunken nights and a string of dead-end jobs we meet a broken man. This couplet always crushes me:
He said “Every single day it gets
Just a little bit harder to handle and yet”
Then he lost the thread and his mind got cluttered
And the words just rolled off down in the gutter
As with any country music tale, entropy clobbers our hero. Not until well into the song are we told what began the spiral: one last proposal to the “Dallas whore,” a final attempt to win the love of a woman he wanted to make honest.
Later, a single line delivered almost as a whisper interrupts the AABB structure. Sung with the excitement level one might use to order coffee, Guy notes “so he died.” The line does not rhyme with any others or satisfy the narrative arc. It feels less cumulative and more like a throwaway that interrupts the story.
Ah, but here comes the Low-Point Theory. This low vantage point forces perspective to appreciate the totality of the man and the story. His love, albeit unrequited, for the “Dallas whore” was all encompassing. This is our Half Dome. The unimportance of his death within the story highlights an indifference to his own well-being. This is our LeConte Gully.
This kind of personal longing has a grandeur about it, something noble in the purity of our discarded loser’s purpose. Love towers over his suffering and ultimate end. The rockface he can never summit becomes even more impressive when observed in contrast to the quiet nothingness of his end. Recognizing how little his own life and death matter is the key Low-Point to understanding the overwhelming magnitude of his unrequited love.
Other classic examples of Low Point Storytelling: Gold Rush (Charlie Chaplin’s dancing bread scene); Boogie Nights (the last shot); “In Spite of Ourselves” (“we” instead of “you”; this technique does not only amplify sadness); any Steven Wright joke (“My girlfriend asked me how long I was going to be gone on this tour. I said, ‘the whole time.’”).
Essays by Cameron 