Courtesy of the Vandals, the Spirit of Christmas Fast

“More Christmas songs?”

It was a question that vocalist Dave Quackenbush posed more than once during the Vandals’ spunky Sunday night show at Crawford Hall at UC Irvine. Because the accommodating crowd didn’t object too vociferously to Quackenbush’s repeated suggestion, the veteran punk band gleefully spent much of its hourlong set plowing through some frisky, if decidedly untraditional, yuletide offerings.

There was ample evidence that the Huntington Beach-bred quartet was in a holiday mood even before it had played a single note. Much of the stage was adorned with Christmas ornaments and props. Strings of colorful lights decorated some of the band’s stationary equipment; an illuminated Santa Claus face beamed out at the audience; a neon reindeer flashed in the shadows.

Fortunately, there was no need to play punked-up versions of “Jingle Bells” or even seasonal rock ‘n’ roll favorites such as Chuck Berry’s rollicking “Run Rudolph Run.” Not long ago, these merry pranksters released an entire album of their own holiday songs called “Christmas With the Vandals.” Like much of the band’s work, the disc is noted for its bratty, over-the-top humor. You can bet that Vandals’ tunes such as the slammin’ “My First Christmas as a Woman” (which tells the tale of a man who has had a sex change operation) and “Christmas Time for My Penis” won’t be ringing out any time soon from the Crystal Cathedral.

Still, one sensed that the genial group was basically trying to celebrate rather than undermine the spirit of Christmas. A good deal of its new material, like “Happy Birthday to Me” (a song delivered in the voice of Jesus) seemed more silly than sacrilegious. At one point, bouncers dragged several troublemakers out of the gym-turned-auditorium. Turning serious for a moment, Quackenbush expressed genuine disappointment that the rowdies hadn’t digested the message of unity at the heart of the Christmas song at hand.

Nevertheless, it’s doubtful that much internal self- examination was going on in the audience, which consisted mostly of teens and some young adults. Two swirling mosh pits were the result of a musical performance that was most often delivered at hyper-speed. Indeed, the energy generated by the group was consistently dynamic even when the songs themselves weren’t particularly captivating.

Especially inspiring was guitarist Warren Fitzgerald, whose outrageous adrenaline level made him appear as if he were 28 going on 12. When he wasn’t leaping about the stage, he was often on the floor, spinning around like a human top. At one point he even executed a handstand.

Now in their 15th year (bassist Joe Escalante is the remaining original member), the Vandals have adapted very well to the times. Their predilection for melodic, playful punk songs and their ability to occasionally incorporate outside elements like ska put the band in firm stylistic step with the Green Days, Offsprings and Goldfingers of the world. Taut, high-octane performances like this can only enhance the Vandals’ chances of moving further up in the commercial rock ranks.

Blink-182 preceded the Vandals with a similarly rowdy set of pop-oriented punk. The San Diego trio’s adolescent, sometimes naughty stage patter was also a reminder of how far punk rock has deviated from its original roots as a sounding board for disaffected youth railing against the system. Blink-182 may not be angry or care about politics, but like the Vandals, it has the sonic goods required to expand its audience.