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The Get Up Kids: Now with less jumping.

The Get Up Kids
With Kevin Devine and The Life and Times. 7 p.m., Oct. 29. Toad's Place, 300 York St. $20-$23. 203-624-8623, toadsplace.com.

When The Get Up Kids announced their disintegration in March 2005 after a decade-long run, guitarist/lead vocalist Matt Pryor felt a fantastic sense of relief.

"It was a dark time," he recalls of the group at its most stressed. With the news made public, the group didn't harbor ideas of working together in the same fashion again. "It was over."

No, the break-up wasn't abrupt — Something to Write Home About, their strongest album, came out in 1999 and their career since was steady but uneventful. It was a bummer that the end was an unhappy one.

The Kansas City quintet was one of emo's pioneering forces (before giving the Kids a compliment for their musical influence, it's become obligatory to note that "emo" has altered dramatically since its creation) and wrote songs that teetered between hope and hopelessness.

Infused with an honest modesty, their pop-via-indie-rock style was boosted by Pryor's inconsonant blend of talents — a perpetually teenaged voice came teamed with a world-weary point of view, able to sensibly dissect the fragility and failures within relationships.

To their followers, The Get Up Kids falling apart thanks to a lack of communication was a cruel shard of irony (didn't they write about this sort of thing?) and a status quo-damning win for the hopeless side.

However, the end was not actually the end.

In April '08, the group (sans keyboardist James Dewees) met up to handle "minor business stuff" over drinks in Lawrence, Kan. The meeting went amicably — so much so that Pryor reconsidered why they split to begin with.

"All of a sudden, it was like, 'Oh right, you guys are my friends! We don't have to be mad at each other,'" he says.

Each member had moved on to other things, so it took some time to regroup. When plans were finally made, Pryor was more nervous about playing their first practice session than their first show.

On setting up, the band immediately tackled "Holiday," the same track that opens Something.

"We played it too slow," he says. "We said, 'No, no, no, play it faster.' Then, it was like riding a bike."

The official return concert took place in their hometown last November. Its success prompted the current nationwide tour that includes this week's date at Toad's. While rekindling songs after years of dormancy is worth celebrating, Pryor says they're not exactly the same group.

"We used to be really energetic," he says. "I didn't want to look like we were faking it, like old farts pretending to be young. I don't think that it has anything to do with the songs themselves. It has more to do with presentation."

What is different?

"In the '90s, we used to jump a lot. We don't jump as much anymore. We still seem to sweat as much as we used to. It's more refined energy. It's green energy."

More than reunion shows lie ahead. With nine new songs set for release, The Get Up Kids have reverted to their old ways as a bona fide working band.

Could this mean another messy divorce down the line?

"I don't know that that would be necessary. As long as we enjoy doing it, there's no reason to put a finite end to it. But then again, I might change my mind."