It's the most exciting reunion in British pop history, gushed Ticketmaster last week. Has Led Zeppelin's John Bonham been resurrected? Pink Floyd have finally settled their differences? No, the company was referring to Take That, the most successful British band since the Beatles (according to the BBC), who have reformed as a five-piece for the first time in 15 years as prodigal son Robbie Williams rejoins Gary Barlow, Mark Owen, Jason Orange and Howard Donald for their 2011 tour.

The forthcoming tour and album will both be called Progress, which sounds a bit like baby formula. And formulaic is how detractors might describe their musical output, while even the most devoted fans must admit that now they are hitting middle age, the 'boy band' tag sounds sadly ironic. But despite the fact Take That were nearly 10 years out of the business before they went back on the road again in 2005, between themselves and Robbie Williams they have sold over 80 million albums.

The band originated in Manchester, way back in 1990, manufactured by record producer Nigel Martin-Smith, who wanted a British copycat of successful US group New Kids on the Block. "These days it's all about, 'Can you sing a couple of bars in tune?'" he said at the time, eerily prefiguring the X Factor era, and adding for good measure, "Most people can sing to some degree and there's this button they have in studios called autotune." His protégés were a young trio calling themselves Cutest Rush. Gary Barlow's musical achievements at that stage included winning a Christmas song competition for the BBC's Pebble Mill ('Let's Pray for Christmas') and playing organ in Ken Dodd's backing band. Williams, the soon-to-be Norman Wisdom of pop, was the son of a seaside comedian and had made an appearance as an extra in Brookside; the diminutive Owen (revealed earlier this year as "the world's unlikeliest love rat") had at the time failed a trial for Manchester United. Smith teamed them up with slightly older Donald (vehicle sprayer) and Orange (decorator by day, dancer by night), rechristened them Take That, and the rest, as they say, is hysteria.

Chart domination ensued in the first half of the 1990s, giving Ireland the boy-band template for Boyzone and Westlife. But as pop tastes started to shift, Take That increasingly became the cheese course to the cigarettes-and-alcohol fuelled rock of Oasis. Williams left the band in 1995, claiming "it's been like a release from a mental hospital" and making public snipes at the Take That frontman. Barlow later admitted that Williams "hurt me more than anyone else has".

The band split in 1996, apparently to such an outpouring of public grief that the Samaritans had to set up a helpline to comfort the traumatised. Williams' career flourished, Barlow's sank, and the latter piled on five stones in weight when his record label dropped him.

With Williams back in the fold, Barlow says working with him again "is not awkward at all, I love him to bits. My wife Ayda calls him my boyfriend." He's also said the reunion may be a one-tour stand and that Williams may not be 'back for good' after all. That's Progress for you.