Even Led Zeppelin were said to be considering a reunion this year, to play at a memorial concert for the late Atlantic Records supremo, Ahmet Ertegun.

Lively readers will note that Led Zeppelin can never actually re-form . . . the death of their drummer, John Bonham, in 1980 saw to that. But, they can do the next best thing: Bonham's son, Jason, has been pencilled in to play in his place.

So what's got into everyone? Why can't bands just break up and fade away?

Of course, some do. The Stone Roses, for instance, flamed out in a series of cocaine-fuelled disputes in 1996, and will never, say the former bandmates' spokespersons, reform. No one died. No one took monastic vows. All the band members are with us, and able to play. It's just that Ian Brown and John Squire . . . the two most influential characters in the band . . . hate each other so virulently that a reunion is never going to happen.

"Eleven years is a long time, " a friend of the band said recently. "John and Ian haven't spoken since then. Ian would expect John to pick up the phone first. That's unlikely to happen. Anyway, John's spending much more time on his art now. He hasn't picked up a plectrum in a long time."

Paul Weller's mod-punk outfit The Jam parted company in 1982, under circumstances that were less fiery but equally terminal. Although bassist Bruce Foxton and drummer Rick Buckler are said to be considering a new tour of old Jam material, Weller has vowed not to join them. Indeed Weller says that reunions are "sad". Last year, the Modfather told BBC 6 Music: "Me and my children would have to be destitute and starving in the gutter before I'd even consider that, and I don't think that'll happen anyway. . . [The Jam] still means something to people and a lot of that's because we stopped at the right time, it didn't go on and become embarrassing."

But Weller is, at least, on speaking terms with his old bandmates. If you want an example of a British band who would need Kofi Annan, a blank cheque, and a team of worldbeating lawyers to even consider reforming, look no further than the 1980s Manchester miserabilists, The Smiths.

The Smiths hate each other. Or, more specifically, Johnny Marr, Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce hate Morrissey, and Rourke has mixed feelings about Joyce. And Morrissey hates them all equally. The singer has said:

"I would rather eat my own testicles than reform The Smiths, and that's saying something for a vegetarian."

Morrissey revealed last year that The Smiths had been offered $5m to reform for the Coachella Valley Music Festival, and had declined. "I feel as if I've worked very hard since the demise of the Smiths and the others haven't, so why hand them attention that they haven't earned? We are not friends, we don't see each other. Why on earth would we be on stage together?"

The roots of The Smiths' troubles are deep-rooted and ancient. Two big personalities, Steven Patrick Morrissey and Johnny Maher (latterly Johnny Marr), formed the band in 1982. Morrissey and Marr were joined on bass by Rourke and on drums by Joyce, and, for the first two years, enjoyed a swift rise in critical estimation with three landmark albums: The Smiths, Meat Is Murder, and The Queen Is Dead.

All this time, though, The Smiths were imploding. By 1985, the band's schedule was overbearing, and Marr came close to a breakdown. "I was drinking more than I could handle, " the guitarist later said. "I was extremely ill." Meanwhile, Rourke's adventures with heroin led to his dismissal from the band in 1986. He learnt this from a post-it note stuck to his car windscreen that read: "Andy, you have left The Smiths. Goodbye and good luck, Morrissey."

Rourke was reinstated after a fortnight, but the seeds had been sown. In 1987, Marr and Morrissey argued frequently. Marr began to work with other artists, while Morrissey became fixated on '60s pop artists. "I didn't form a group to perform Cilla Black covers, " said Marr. He left the band, and The Smiths ceased to exist soon afterwards.

If only it had ended there. In 1996 . . . with Morrissey's solo career well-established, and Marr, Rourke and Joyce carving out good work as musicians . . . Joyce brought a lawsuit against Morrissey and Marr. The two leading players had claimed the majority of recording and performance royalties in the band, while Joyce and Rourke had received only 10%. Now, the drummer wanted a fairer cut. The court found in favour of Joyce, awarding him �1m and 25% of royalties thereafter. Rourke, who was on his uppers at the time, settled for a lump sum and 10% of royalties.

Morrissey said of the case: "[It] was a potted history of the life of The Smiths. Mike, talking constantly and saying nothing. Andy, unable to remember his own name. Johnny, trying to please everyone and consequently pleasing no one. And Morrissey under the scorching spotlight in the dock, being drilled . . . To me, The Smiths were a beautiful thing and Johnny left it, and Mike has destroyed it."

Years later, in the 2002 documentary entitled The Importance of Being Morrissey, he added that he wished Joyce "nothing but the very, very worst for the rest of his life".

That, it would seem, was that, were it not for the fact that in 2005 Marr and Rourke played one song on stage together at the Manchester vs Cancer benefit gig. Could the other two be persuaded to let bygones be bygones? "My personal view, " says Peter Hook of New Order, who now plays with Rourke, "is that the pain of working together is lessened by the amount of money you're offered.

"The thing about The Smiths is, Morrissey and Marr took the songwriting credits, so they earned most of the money. So, they're the people least likely to need [a reunion]. They'd only do it if their egos needed it, and, because Morrissey plays all The Smiths' stuff with his own band, he gets that satisfaction anyway."

Hook had a contretemps with his old New Order colleague Bernard Sumner in 2005.

But he says there is always a part of him that wants to go back. "For me, it's a little like how childbirth is to women. If you remembered how painful it was, you'd never do it again. But you forget. Even now, there's a part of me that thinks, 'It wasn't that bad.'" So what would it take for The Smiths' pain to be forgotten? "The best charity gig in the world would be if you could get the Stone Roses to re-form and The Smiths to reform, " says Hook. "And it would probably be the only way for those groups to get back together, because their split-ups were so acrimonious."

Still, there are some memorable precedents. The American country stars, The Eagles, once fell out so spectacularly that, towards the end of a live performance on 31 July 1980, at Long Beach, they were already planning their backstage fight. Don Felder told Glen Frey: "Only three more songs till I kick your ass, buddy." He was true to his word: after the show a mass brawl broke out, and The Eagles were over.

But, 14 years later, things had changed. The Eagles toured again. Don Henley had always said that hell would freeze over before the Eagles reunited, so it was called the Hell Freezes Over tour, and it was not the happiest of occasions. But at least they were together. What price a Smiths' Flying Pigs Tour for 2008?

The art of 're-banding' The Verve Richard Ashcroft, lead singer of Wigan Britpoppers The Verve, said of a Verve reunion that "you're more likely to get all four Beatles on the stage together". That wasn't really true. The Verve may have broken up in 1999 due to, among other things, their industrial drug habit, but they were all, still, in one piece. So, when Jo Whiley announced on BBC Radio One that The Verve were to reform . . . "for the love of the music" . . . it came as less of a shock than if George, Ringo, Paul, and John had announced the ultimate comeback tour.

The Police The Police drifted apart.

When the Synchronicity tour finished in March 1984, Sting, Andy Summers and Stuart Copeland pursued solo careers. The trio played three concerts in June 1986 but it was clear that The Police were over as a band. This year rumours started to circulate of a 30th anniversary tour.

They played at the Grammy Awards on 11 February in Los Angeles, and have sold out Croke Park in October.

Genesis When Genesis finally called it a day in 1997, having sold 150 million records in a 30-year career, they didn't say they were breaking up. They said they were taking an "indefinite hiatus". It seemed the hiatus could be nearing its end in 2006, when rumours abounded of a reunion for the oldstagers of prog-rock.

Those rumours were given a foundation when Banks, Collins and Rutherford announced the Turn It On Again tour would take place this summer. The tour, which started on 11 June in Helsinki, will see the band play 50 dates, including LiveEarth.

Spice Girls Everything's going to be all right. Sporty, Scary, Baby, Ginger and Posh are back together. They sold 53 million records, and since their breakup in 2001 there have been rumours of a reunion. Bob Geldof talked about bringing back the girls for his Live8 concerts, but wanted "all five or none". Last week, the girls made the announcement . . . they were going back on the road, with a 25-date world tour.