“Wynton Existing turned Eastside Bowl into a beautifully unhinged Halloween circus, where System of a Down, clowns and Nashville rock collided for one surreal night.”
There was something wonderfully surreal about walking into Eastside Bowl on Halloween night and finding myself surrounded by clowns while System of a Down songs blasted from the stage.
Maybe it was the venue itself. A bowling alley already carries a certain kind of nostalgia—the neon, the colors, the feeling of stepping into another decade—and System of a Clown III pushed all of that into wonderfully bizarre territory. Circus-inspired dancers weaved through the night, bubbles floated above the crowd, balloon animals appeared throughout the room, and costumes were everywhere. At times, it felt less like watching a tribute show and more like accidentally wandering into a very loud, slightly unhinged circus.
This was the third consecutive Halloween that Wynton Existing and Iguanahead brought System of a Clown to Nashville, joined this year by Natalie Ray and guests. Each band got its turn interpreting System of a Down while also playing two original songs. That small decision mattered. Instead of spending the entire night watching three bands impersonate SOAD, we got glimpses of the musicians and music coming out of Nashville right now.
Wynton Existing anchored much of the night’s beautiful chaos. The Nashville-based four-piece consists of Wynton Huddle on vocals and guitar, Gavin Gates on drums and vocals, Conor Spellane on bass and vocals, and Jake Shockley on guitar and vocals. Huddle originally comes from Pennsylvania and spent his early years performing along the East Coast before eventually making Tennessee home. What began as a project largely driven by Huddle and Gates has since developed into a complete four-piece, now moving into its next chapter with From These Ashes Grow A Garden and songs including “No More Second Chances” and “Read Between the Lines.”
There was plenty of crossover throughout the night. Huddle kept appearing during the other bands’ sets, jumping on and off the stage and eventually disappearing directly into the crowd. By that point there was very little separation between performer and audience, which suited System of a Down perfectly. These aren’t exactly songs meant to be politely observed from across the room.
That unpredictability also makes more sense after hearing Huddle talk about how the band works. He has described rehearsals where a mistake becomes something interesting enough for everyone else to follow rather than something that needs to be corrected. He has also spoken about wanting more freedom to wander musically and then find their way back together. Watching him bounce between bands, stage and audience on Halloween, that philosophy suddenly became very easy to understand.
That may be what I loved most about the night.
Tribute shows can sometimes become exercises in accuracy: play the songs correctly, recreate the familiar parts and give everyone exactly what they came expecting to hear. System of a Clown felt like the opposite. System of a Down provided the foundation, but these Nashville musicians built their own strange little world around it.
For a few hours, Eastside Bowl became part rock show, part circus and part Halloween fever dream. Between the clowns, dancers, bubbles, balloon animals, screaming guitars and musicians repeatedly spilling off the stage and into the room, everything felt colorful, nostalgic, chaotic and just slightly unreal.
And on Halloween night, I can’t imagine System of a Down being celebrated any other way.
