From the beginning, the intention was clear. “Five bad boys with the power to rock you,” came the shouty introduction in their first video, all hoodies and hair gel, the bandmates swaggering through a dim, strobe-lit corridor that suggested they might be trespassing – or at the very least, flouting a health and safety rule or two.

Signed by a then little known Simon Cowell to create “chaos”, Five (or 5ive) were the antidote to the squeaky clean boybands of the era. The image was tough egos, not hearts, on sleeves.

Jason “J” Brown, Abz Love, Scott Robinson, Ritchie Neville and Sean Conlon burst into the charts and on to teen girls’ walls with Slam Dunk (Da Funk) in 1997, and continued with hits including Everybody Get Up, If Ya Gettin’ Down and Keep On Movin’. They had 11 top 10 singles in total, including three number ones, filled arenas, and even had their own dolls (which is when you really know you’ve made it).

Behind the scenes, as we now know has been the case for so many young pop stars, things weren’t always as carefree as they appeared. The inevitable split came after just four years, and a full reunion always seemed unlikely. A couple of comebacks involved different members, but never J.

“I hated the industry,” he said during his appearance on I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! in 2007. “I ran away from it all.”

Earlier this year, however, the announcement was made: Five – all five! – were making a comeback. A month later, after a few weeks to process the reaction (the initial arena tour dates have more than doubled, due to demand), I meet them at their publicists’ offices in London. A constant stream of easy ribbing has to be gently interrupted to get the interview going.

Now in their 40s, the bandmates are aware the internet has cottoned on to how often they used to sing about getting up – and getting down – in most of their songs. “We were aware of that at the time,” half-groans Ritchie. “We count a lot as well,” laughs J. “We’re an educational band.”

They are happy to be back in each other’s company. Back in the day, there were squabbles, but never any serious fall-out, they say. Five split because they were tired of the industry, not each other.

“We broke up out of love,” says Ritchie. “Sean was having a bad time, he was 15 when he joined the band, and it is a high-pressure, high-stress situation. We were thrown into the deep end and it’s sink or swim. It had been nearly five years of 18-hour days. We were worn out.”

When the video for the band’s penultimate single, Let’s Dance, was released, featuring a life-size cardboard cut-out of Sean in place of the real thing, it was claimed he had fallen ill. In reality, the pressures of the band, and fame, had become way too much. Scott was also suffering, desperate for a break and to spend time with his girlfriend, Kerry (the couple married shortly after Five’s split). By the time they called it a day, they were all worn out.

‘Our bond wasn’t spoken about’

“We ultimately made the call that it doesn’t matter how many number ones you have, it’s not worth this,” Ritchie continues.

“Our bond wasn’t actually spoken about,” says Sean, “because of that ‘bad boy’ image.” There was a stigma, he says, and some pressure “to live up to being a lad”. They were five young men given the opportunity of a lifetime, so some laddish behaviour was par for the course. But it wasn’t the whole truth. “Really, we are five big softies.”

It was Scott who picked up the phone first. “I hadn’t seen J or Abz for a long time. I kept on hovering over their names.” Abz first. “Was it ‘cus I’m at the top – A, B?” he laughs. Scott reassures him it was an intentional dial. “That means a lot, man.” An AirBnB was booked and that was it – the first time in almost 25 years all five had been in the same room.

Initially, they weren’t reuniting as Five, simply as friends. But word got out, the offer came in.

“We didn’t sleep,” says Sean, recalling the night before the launch. “We were scared stiff… petrified.” Given their huge stardom back in the day – and following successful nostalgia-filled reunions by ’90s-’00s contemporaries such as Steps and S Club 7 – surely they realised the comeback would be something of a cultural moment?

Ritchie says not. “We’re just normal dudes that did something that went bigger than I thought.” There were fears of ending up “with egg on our face”, J adds. “We release it as this big thing and it could have just gone ‘pfff’.”

Staying in a hotel the night before the announcement, Scott called Kerry. “What if no one cares?”

Just a few months earlier, millions had watched Ritchie, Sean and Scott taking part in the docuseries Boybands Forever, which pulled back the curtain on the darker side of fame. Their honesty about the mental health struggles they all faced during their time in Five no doubt contributed to the groundswell of support surrounding the comeback.

“I suppose it’s a massive part of the healing process,” says Scott. “When I started speaking to the boys again, it was like, I’m not sad anymore. Because all of that stuff is a distant memory… I’ve gone from being a little bit broken, to complete again.”

They are keen to stress they had lots of good times. “So many highs,” says Ritchie. “We played Rock In Rio. How many people was it?” “16 billion,” one of his bandmates exaggerates. “We opened the Brits with Queen, Times Square, we went platinum in the States…”

“I won two haircut awards,” says Scott, adding with mock false modesty: “I don’t like to talk about it.”

While they enjoyed so much of it, it got to the point where they were all desperately craving normality, and a rest. Now, they say it’s “massively” important to talk about the low points, and how the industry can learn from its mistakes.

‘Nobody’s life is that good’

“I think the marketing of bands of our era was really based around ‘everything’s positive, there’s no troubles’,” says Sean. “I don’t really think that that’s good for anybody.”

“Nobody’s life is that good,” adds Ritchie. Back then, mental health was not part of the conversation – particularly for five “bad boys”. “Now, thankfully, it’s spoken about a lot,” says Scott. “I think it’s so, so important.”

“It takes a lot of pressure off you,” says J. “When we were doing it – and we were children doing it – and we are in this position of being on a pedestal almost. You’re going through some really rough times and you just want people to know… [but] when you try and voice it to anyone else outside of this collective, it’s like [the response is], ‘you’ve got the world at your feet, you’re this age, you’ve obviously got millions in the bank’…”

“And that makes you feel a million times worse,” Ritchie adds. “I remember having this conversation with one of my best friends. They were like, ‘what have you got to be down about?’ It actually broke me.”

Things are different now, Ritchie continues. When he joined the band, he was 17 and “didn’t know what too much was”. But signed artists now have access to counselling and support, he says.

“We’ve already done it and it’s absolutely amazing to be able to speak to someone and go, this is what I’m feeling,” says Scott. “We didn’t have that. We’re not blaming anyone for that. It was a massive time in the ’90s where we were all learning at the same time… We’re older, they’re older. We’re more experienced and so are they.”

Abz chips in: “When you’re so wrapped up in it, you’re not sure what’s left and what’s right. To have that break, as wild and as long as it was, whatever happened in that time period, to actually all be here. We’re very grateful.”

‘We didn’t realise we were cool’

There is also no longer such a snobbery around pop music now.

“We didn’t realise we were a really cool band,” says Scott. “We didn’t realise how good our songs were, and that’s not blowing our own trumpet.” After the split, they tried to “run away” from the music, he adds.

J and Ritchie, who “hung out a lot” in later years, would inevitably get asked about it when they were out together. They hated it. “We used to apologise a lot,” says Ritchie. “Oh yeah, we’re from that rubbish band.” He pretends to wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s a ridiculous thing, a really adolescent mindset, the whole, ‘I’m selling out’,” says J. “I had that for a long time, unfortunately.” With enough time passed, he now appreciates the Five back catalogue. “When I hear it, I can hear it fresh. And I’m like, that’s why people were digging it.”

The pop conveyor belt was an industry mistake, says Sean, and artists paid the price. “They looked at our music and bands like us and they thought, okay, it’s not really got a lot of depth to it, it’s not really moving people in that way that they’d be able to do a tour 25 years later. So we’ll get them working all day and all night, maximise it, profit-wise.”

But here they are, 25 years later. “Our music – and not just our band, the whole ’90s era – meant so much to so many people. We’re witnessing that now.”

At the moment, there are no plans for new songs. “I think fans want to hear the old music,” says Scott. “They want to remember a simpler time when they didn’t have a mortgage to pay. They want the nostalgia.” Maybe later down the line though, he adds.

Given everything they have been through, the highs and the lows, what would their advice be… “Don’t do it!” Abz interrupts, laughing, before I get the chance to finish the question about the boybands following in their footsteps.

Get the “right people” behind you, Ritchie says, seriously. “Sleep in the breaks,” adds Scott.

But would they recommend it? Especially given some of them are fathers now. “I’d do it all again, but different,” says Abz. To which Sean quickly reminds him he is now doing exactly that.

They all are. Five not-so bad boys – but still, it seems, with the power to rock you.