If you really want to see Slug squirm, read him a line like the one a big Los Angeles publicity firm wrote to hype the new Atmosphere album:
"Atmosphere transformed the city into a nexus from which underground rap spiraled out to the masses."
While he publicly maintains the cocky facade that comes with the "Rappers 101" handbook, the frontman of Minnesota's most celebrated hip-hop act has actually long been squeamish talking about what he means to Minneapolis. His hometown's knack for self-deprecation and cynicism were always some of his greatest attributes as a songwriter.
The slightly graying, black-hoodie-wearing, forever soul-patch-chinned rapper first shrugged off the "nexus" sentence as PR drivel, but then he owned up to it.
"I used to always be afraid I'd look like a [jerk] saying things like that," Slug said.
"But then I realized certain people are always going to call you a [jerk] anyway," he said. "So why not?"
Defining your legacy is one of the driving themes on Atmosphere's new album, "Southsiders." Another is not caring what other people think, unless they're people you care about.
Naysayers who put down Atmosphere for being the big cat in town — and others who justifiably did not like their mushy, mellower 2011 album, "The Family Sign" — might have forgotten how far Atmosphere actually went in the 2000s with an almost entirely homegrown operation.