A wayward troubadour that has lived (narcotics, jail time and a bankruptcy to name but a few highlights) more than his tender age would suggest, Texan singer/songwriter Micah P. Hinson has always sounded like a weary old soul trapped in a young man's body. His earthy baritone and penchant for fantastical narrative making him the ungodly spawn of curmudgeonly brilliant tunesmiths Gordon Lightfoot and Will Oldham - tales of misfortune shot through with a dusty road elegance and sense of sweet betrayal.

His self-titled bow with the Opera Circuit is a supernaturally ebbing collection of woe and wonderment that sounds at once ancient and modern. He shares a gift for river dredged vocal harrumph and melodious antiquities with fellow tunesmith William Elliot Whitmore, but whereas Whitmore tends to look six feet below for his inspiration,

Hinson is a perpetual stargazer that seeks to find answers in the smog-stained constellations that shift overhead. Even as he sings like someone's craked his heart in half on "Drift Off to Sleep" and "Seems Almost Impossible" there's a sense of naive rejuvenation that's unerringly beautiful, and that seems totally at odds with the bum lot the kid's been dealt. Elsewhere, he stakes a claim as Jeff Mangum's worthy successor ("It's Been So Long") and the dustbowl bastard son Tom Waits ("Letter to Huntsville") doesn't remember conceiving.

Life has taken some pretty tough shots at Hinson, and while he hasn't exactly escaped unscathed, there is a victorious spirit that runs throughout Micah P. Hinson and the Opera Circuit that not only proves him to be one of the scrappiest songwriters around, but seems to go a long way towards proving the old adage that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. - Jason Jackowiak (2006, The Daily Copper)