After shakin’ and shimmyin’ to the infectious rhythms of a whacked-out song called “Rock Lobster,” Americans were certainly curious 30 years ago about what the fun-loving B-52s would do for an encore.

Music lovers were concerned because here was this great big hit sweeping the nation from a group that admittedly was musically deprived, i.e., no one had much musical experience.

They shouldn’t have worried because the new wave combo had plenty up its sleeve — namely a 1980 album, “Wild Planet,” which found flat-toned Fred Schneider and twin bouffant-topped, go-going chanteuses Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson nearly equaling the giddy vocal highs of their debut.

From the raucous “Party Out of Bounds” to the ahead-of-the curve couch potato classic, “Private Idaho” to the ever-kitschy “Strobe Light,” this collection of zany dance tunes proved the B-52s were no flash in the lava lamp.

“Party Out of Bounds” seems to accurately address what fans like about the kitschy, minimalist dance band that somehow managed to overcome its primitive musicianship and crank out hit after hit after hit.

As with many pop music groups, the road hasn’t always been smooth.

Yet, the death of one of the founding members, Cindy Wilson’s older brother, Rick, a lengthy absence from concerts and a break from the group by Cindy herself never dampened the enthusiasm of fans.

That was clearly evident Saturday night as the B-52s brought their enjoyably garish mishmash of ’70s/’80s rock, B-movie kitsch and surfboard funk to wine country, opening the 40th anniversary season of the Robert Mondavi Summer Music Festival.

The bouffants might not be piled as high these days, the irreverent, zany lyrics not as sassy, nevertheless the overall effect is as commanding as it was three decades ago.

At least the 900 fans on the Mondavi lawn the other evening thought so.

In fact, their recordings just don’t do them justice once you’ve taken in a live concert.

If there ever was a band that required an in-person mashup, it’s the B-52s.

Their 80-minute set Saturday night featured material that covered the breadth of the group’s career, from the nod to ’60s trash rock in “52 Girls” off the ’79 self-titled debut to the bizarre title track of the 2008 release, “Funplex,” a send-up of giant shopping malls where there’s “no will power and my wallet’s on fire ...”

Who can resist the magnificent hooks and grooves of the B-52s?

Especially with lyrics (“Funplex”) that are the very model of the non sequitur:

“Misery at the Funplex!

And there’s too much sex!

The world is going to hell

And what is that horrible smell?”

Looking as youthful as he did when the band burst onto the scene in 1979, Keith Strickland was every inch the rock guitarist, from skinny leather pants to blistering chords and soaring vocal harmonies.

Vocalist/percussionist Fred Schneider was as deadpan as ever, delivering lyrics that, more often than not, the crowd shouted back at him.

The ladies (Cindy Wilson, in head-to-toe black, and Kate Pierson, a veritable rainbow, hair and clothing, with a flashing lavender ring) delivered the goods, cranking out one hit after another as this remarkable retrospective flashed before our eyes and ears.

Despite the fact that they weren’t seasoned, serious musicians when they launched their careers, the B-52s struck a responsive chord with fans.

Who cared if their songs

didn’t make sense? Get up and dance!

And that’s just what Saturday night’s enthusiastic crowd did. By the time the band got to “Roam,” the diehards had been joined by the novices, turning the Mondavi lawn into a giant dance floor.

From “Mesopotamia” to “Love Shack,” the vibe was contagious. Backed up by a trio of pros (keyboards, drums, bass), the mavens of kitsch could do no wrong.

The B-52s are once again riding high on the concert trail, and that’s where they belong.

The magnificent “Rock Lobster” remains unmatched in terms of its relentless, spastic power to move one’s feet.

 It came as the evening’s final encore, following on the heels of another early classic, the otherworldly “Planet Claire,” complete with Pierson’s cosmic sound effects underscoring the lyric:

“Planet Claire has pink air

All the trees are red

No one ever dies there

No one has a head.”

Opening the show were high-energy Los Angeles pop rockers, The 88.

Keyboardist Adam Merrin, guitarist/vocalist Keith Slettedahl, drummer Anthony Zimmitti and newcomer bassist Mitch Townsend breezed through a half-hour’s worth of hook-filled rockers reminiscent of an ’80s Bay Area band, The Rubinoos.

Well, maybe The Rubinoos with a slightly harder edge, like label companion Greg Kihn.

Listenable as well as danceable fun.