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Extreme Metal Hunks
1990‘s Chris Barnes (Cannibal Corpse, Six Feet Under)
Hot Because: The guy is cute as a button. Just look at that face: a good head of metal hair on him, a silly expression on his face and facial hair that’d make GQ proud. He fits the package, as in he has a handsome face, strong build and created Gore Metal. What more could you possibly want? He was also one of the main forces behind the early 90’s Death Metal scene with countless bands being influenced by his brain-child, Cannibal Corpse, for years to come.
Ideal Date: You find yourself waiting impatiently in the parking lot as you can hear the opening band slowly progress through their sound-check until you’ve had it. You need out! As you walk away, looking for a place to blow off steam you see a rather large white van that seems like a suitable place to smoke next to. You round the corner to find a group of three individuals (men: two ugly and repulsive, one hot and more metal than Rom Space Knight). The cute one asks for your name.
He tells you his name is Chris. He offers you weed. He whips out a bag of dense mary j and with what seems like one motion grinds and rolls a joint thicker than his thumb and tighter than a Nun’s ladyhood (i.e. vagina!). After he lights it up and hands it off you you you for your drag. Sure, you’re nervous at first but it all comes naturally. As you breath deeply a great “power” fills you and the thought hits your head: this is a the dankest dope God could make.
After a quick session, the two of you float into the show ready see some carnage. As you stand and stare at the stage, convinced that it has a mouth that could eat the audience, a man (not as attractive as Chris) walks up to you and attempts to get your attention. He says something like “nice Beneath the Remains t-shirt,” but all it seems to do is make Chris jealous. Clueless to all this you continue to stare at the stage as Chris picks said guy up by the throat and takes him around back to cave his head it. Screams so loud that it could shatter glass ring out through the hall, the screams are soon accompanied by thick, wet, banging sounds that continue until the scream stops. You would look to see what happened but you’re positive that the stage will show its mouth and eat you if you look away.
Deal Breaker: Ladys, there seems to be an expiration date on this one. About around 1995 is where things started looking bad. The GQ beard started having more of a Una-bomber feel and he went full force with a band called Six Feet Under. It wasn’t until later where he got the dredlocks and released more albums of the same generic death n’ roll that it become abundantly clear: this hunk was past date. Dude’s voice sucks. The music is lazier than a drunk teen too tired to masturbate. And covers? Seriously? Black Sabbath’s “Sweet Leaf” and Exodus’s “Piranha” I could understand (still kind of weak sauce on your part) but Hendrix? Where in the fuck do you get the idea that a Jimi Hendrix would benefit from a death metal cover? Who told you that would be a good idea? Well when you’re producing your own record for a label that you basically made what it is today then you can do whatever you want.
He also did a Monkees cover. Y’know, that TV band. I wish I was joking.
Chris Barnes was one of the driving forces behind death metal but now he seems content on swimming the shallow, piss filled kiddy pool of mediocrity. Every bad joke that death metal has been the butt of can find its roots with this man. Fucker won’t even change his vocal style; he won’t progress or improve his style (you know, like a real frontman of any band would do). The years have not been good to Chris Barnes. Then again, Chris Barnes hasn’t been good for Chris Barnes.
So yeah. Unless you have a time machine or have the legendary power of changing a man (which NO ONE has!) this is little more than a tease for most. Sorry there.
Next Week: Someone you can fuck now and be proud of.