Yes, there is a tendency for romanticism where the Goldstone north stand is concerned; a tendency to re-write history to make it out to be this seething mass of non-stop noise, which for much of time it simply wasn't. Especially after the north east corner was condemned and away supporters were housed further away.I spent time in the north back in the day, late 80s and very early 90s. There were cores of singers to the center of the stand but that was it.
For me, what made the old north stand special is what made terraces in general special; the fact that anyone could simply turn up and pay to get in and so you'd spend the time before kick-off speculating with you mates about how big the crowd was likely to be; the fact that that like-minded people could congregate together and so the singing and chanting seemed to suddenly erupt spontaneously, spread and then wither as quickly a it had started. The edgy thrill of feeling anonymous in a homogenous crowd and that never-too-far-away sense that 'anything' could happen, even though you knew it never would. It felt mildly dangerous yet completely safe, because in spite of the surges and the bundling, the barriers and the fences and the slight feeling of being in the midst of something uncontrolled, nothing bad could ever really happen, could it?
And then Hillsborough happened.