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N-Side or Norman A. Woods


What follows is a bio in N-Side's own fascinating words.

To lovers of poetry and jazz:

I would like to introduce you to a new sound of poetry and jazz from the artist N-Side, the blessed one. And who is this N-Side? I never heard of him. Where did he come from?

He is Norman A. Woods aka N-Side, the blessed one. A performing jazz/poet, screenwriter and music publisher from the San Francisco bay area. A native of Berkeley, California, he has always had an aspiration to become an artist of some description and has always supported the arts in some way, emotionally, financially and resourcefully. Some say he has seen it all. From Jimi Hendrix plays Berkeley to the Silicon Valley explosion.

In his own words, he would say "Seen a lot, heard a lot. Done a lot, had fun a lot and everything in between! You can believe that!"

From Vietnam Protest to rainy days of homelessness. Trust him when he says that he has a story to tell and has always found a way to smile through "Hard Times on Planet Earth" and his latest CD "LIVE from Cafe Valparaiso" on Shalamar Records/Three Alexander Music (BMI).
N-Side's "reflective poetry" is backed with smooth and uptempo free jazz grooves provided by his veteren trio Si Perkoff-piano, Mandy Flowers-upright bass and David Rokeach on drums. The N-Side sound was built on the philosophy that "the best place to find a good pair of hands, is to look down at the end of your arms." Influenced by some of his favorite artists Langston Hughes, Gil Scott-Heron, Red Garland, Kamau Da'aood, with that in mind and hard work, the N-Side sound brings to you a beautiful example of the symbiotic relationship between poetry and jazz music.

Selfish


Blood on my hands from a grip so tight,
insistent upon fitting a square peg into a
round hole

Through deaf ears, I am only allowed to hear
conditional surrenders, temporary acceptance
hidden within a punishing silence

Untouchable, this venom, so powerful, which
tries to desecrate souls

Controlled by the power of my wants,
I dance to the drumbeats of migraines
With background harmony provided by stomach growls
Loud enough to drown out any voice of compromise.

I am blinded by this mutation of
my instinctual desires, where all that
matters is what I want.

True sadness comes, when peaceful rest must fight its
way through anger, tempered by late night television
and a Valarian sleep

And the deepest love can't reach you

© Copyright 2003 N-Side/Norman A. Woods


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