I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For [Special Edit Radio Mix]
C: "Now, we're up to our long-distance dedication. And this one is about kids, and pets, and a situation that we can all understand, whether we have kids, or pets, or neither. It's from a man in Cincinatti, Ohio. And here's what he writes:
"'Dear Casey, This may seem to be a strange dedication request, but I'm quite sincere, and it'll mean a lot if you play it. Recently, there was a death in our family. He was a little dog named Snuggles. But he was most certainly a part of...'"
Let's co...Let's start again...from, comin' out of the record... Play the record, okay?... Please... CBJ: You can't get on the frequency that I'm on, ya dumb son of a bitch. C: "That's the letter U, and the numeral 2. The four-man band features Adam Clayton on bass, Larry Mullen on drums, Dave Evans, nicknamed 'The Edge', on..." ...this is bullshit, nobody cares...these guys are from England, and who gives a shit?! CBJ: Oh, yeah... C: It's a lot of wasted names that don't mean diddly-shit! CBJ: I... Fer sure, fer sure, you guys don't know where he's at, you don't know shit about him... C: This is bullshit, this is bullshit... CB1: Sounds like he's portable, too. C: Who gives a shit, who gives a shit? WCB: Yeah, it is close... C: Diddly shit, diddly shit, diddly shit, diddly shit, CBJ: Yeah... WCB: Damn right. C: Nobody cares! WCB: It's been getting stronger all the time here... C: Snuggles. CBJ: Yeah... C: Snuggles. CBJ: Oh, yeah... C: Snuggles. CBJ: Oh, yeah, OK... C: He was a little dog, named Snuggles. [Dog barking] C: This is American Top 40. This is American Top 40. This is bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. CBJ: Ahhh, ya can't get ahold of me, ya little fuckin' twerp cocksucker... [whistle] Fuck you! CB2: So when we find ya, we want your blood. CBJ: Here we go with the shit "Tryin' to find 'im" again, "Oh, when we find 'im..." You goddamn haven't found, you couldn't find your fuckin' asshole if your fuckin' butt wasn't connected to it... Buncha fuckin' white-ass honkeys, man, ya can't find shit, stupid bastards. CB2: I wanna meet you... Definitely, I don't think you got the fuckin' balls. CBJ: You haven't found anybody, anywhere, anytime. You never have given out his correct address, his fuckin' right-on description, or a car, or nothin'. You got some fuckin' bullshit info... Ha, you haven't done shit with 'im. CB1: We didn't find you yet? We really didn't find you the first time? CBJ: When was the first time, huh? When was the first time? Hey, why don't you give out his, his address, an' what he looks like, and his car, and all that fuckin' information. Goddamn, you got somebody there, I dunno who, but go ahead and get all that shit outta you, why don't you go over there and knock on his fuckin' door man, ya, ya think ya know where he's at and all this shit...
C: ...See, when you come out of those up-tempo goddamn numbers, man, it's impossible to make those transitions... and then ya gotta go into somebody dyin'... [Dog growls] C: Goddammit if we can't come outta a slow record, I don't understand it... CBJ: [unintelligible] C: Why are we doing these instrumentals? Cause we got 'em? I don't understand it. V1: This is also nothing new. C: I don't understand it. V1: This is also nothing new. C: I don't understand it. CBJ: [unintelligible] Cocksucker! V1: I think that people read more into the music than is really there... C: Will somebody find out the goddamn answer? V1: In the 50's, they considered it vu