For many committed music aficionados, discovering a new act, collecting their recordings and seeing them live is more than mere fandom. It’s an investment of sorts. If an artist’s music truly connects, it can draw you into their world and become part of your own. You may spend large amounts of your hard-earned wages in the process, but there’s even more at stake. The art, aesthetics, fashion, politics and opinions of said musician can influence daily decisions, the friends you keep and often your very identity.

For this reason, when the original formula is altered, sometimes that spell is broken. You fall in love with somebody and they change before your eyes; on occasion for the worse. It’s no longer the same, much like an actual romantic relationship.

Whether it be The Beatles splitting up or One Direction going on hiatus, true fans are affected and tears are shed. How could they do this to you? It can feel personal. Surely it can’t just be musical differences? But try sharing a tour bus with three others in close confinement on an 18-month, gruelling tour schedule and then see how you feel about your best friends.

It doesn’t always come to this, however, and once a modicum of success, wealth and celebrity has been tasted, it can be tough for a long-suffering musician to walk away. Many struggle for years to get that brief moment in the limelight, and nothing’s going to stop them now… not even the lead singer and lyricist leaving the band.

Obviously, if your number’s up and it’s time to hit that great after-show party in the sky, then the project stops. Or does it? The current touring version of Lynyrd Skynyrd has none of the original members in the band; and Thin Lizzy perform constantly despite the untimely death of charismatic bassist, lead singer and songwriter Phil Lynott in 1986, almost 30 years ago.

Others who have had tragedy fall upon them but managed to shake it off include The Rolling Stones post Brian Jones, and Joy Division after Ian Curtis’s suicide. The latter had the good sense to rename the outfit and take their sound in different directions as New Order, achieving far greater and prolonged success in the process. Although no longer with mainstay bass-player Peter Hook, unceremoniously sacked from the group he formed, they do have a brand new album, Music Complete, released this Friday.

REM managed to survive after drummer Bill Berry left in 1997, making some reasonable records before wisely and amicably disbanding in 2011. This seems rather noble, a rare trait in the ruthless musician, as they easily could have continued peddling mediocrity and milking their fanbase for years to come.

Pixies fared less well when iconic bass-player Kim Deal parted company with the band and their comeback album was critically mauled by most. Perhaps their stunning reformation shows and faultless back catalogue should have been enough for them.

We now live in the age of comeback tours. I never dreamt I would ever see The Velvet Underground play live, but I did at the Edinburgh Playhouse. The Who continue to windmill their way through festival headline sets, despite now being The Two, Daltry and Townsend. And the Family Stone are currently touring, without the main-man who formed and led the band in style, Sly Stone.

Some artists constantly reinvent themselves and essentially tire of the static format, with an ever-revolving cast of musicians joining them. Nick Cave has employed many different Bad Seeds in the group’s history; and Elvis Costello has been backed by the Attractions, Imposters, Roots and Brodsky Quartet amongst others. They’re actually applauded for it.

But some just simply soldier on. And on. And on. Do they really think they can live up to their former glories? Do they really have something new to offer the world? Or can they simply do nothing else? The sheer brass-neck of The Stranglers or The Undertones playing their key hits without frontmen Hugh Cornwell or Feargal Sharkey seems a little desperate to me. But if their audience stays with them, then I suppose this strange afterlife is justifiable.

Perhaps I am biased, as they were the first band I saw live back in 1985, but The Damned are one such band who doggedly persevere through thick and thin, fortune and failure, but actually still sound and look good against all odds. They celebrate their 40th anniversary in London’s Albert Hall in May 2016, and continue to tour globally despite only having two original members in their ranks, Dave Vanian and Captain Sensible.

Watch the current film documentary Don’t You Wish That We Were Dead and find out that over 20 different members have been through their ranks. Better still, see them headline this Friday’s night’s Loopallu festival in Ullapool for proof that their incendiary psychedelic, punk stage-show is still very much in effect, amazingly without enormous beer-bellies spoiling the view.

Half-hearted plaudits like ‘legendary’, ‘classic’ or ‘heritage’ are often applied to groups who simply keep going and going. But visual artists, filmmakers, jazz players, folk musicians and classical conductors are allowed to grow old, so why not rock’n’rollers?

Perhaps as it’s the soundtrack to our youth, first enjoyed when hearts and minds are obsessive, tribal and utterly dedicated, it can be hard to watch the cracks appear and flaws arise. But that’s probably a little unfair. If you once carried these artists in your heart, then why not do so again? Fingers crossed, some of original line-up are still present on stage.

Vic Galloway presents on BBC Radio Scotland at 9-11pm on Mondays, www.bbc.co.uk/radioscotland. Tomorrow he has Anton Newcombe from Brian Jonestown Massacre choosing records in the Guest List. Contact Vic at www.twitter.com/vicgalloway