The DOT perform How We All Lie in the Guardian's studios. guardian.co.uk

We are sitting in a van outside a venue in an east London basement. Mike Skinner and Rob Harvey, former member of Leeds rave-rockers the Music, are preparing to play another spit'n'sawdust show as the DOT, their nascent classic pop outfit. It is not exactly the lifestyle of the high-roller.

In his former life as UK garage savant the Streets, Skinner forged a new way of being a pop star, breaking down the barriers between performer and producer. Along the way he became king of the lads: a poster boy for hedonism but with traces of street poet. This quickly saw him graduate to international playboy. The inevitable descent into post-fame psychosis was laid down in harrowing detail through his five-album arc. Skinner wound up the Streets in 2011, producing an eye-watering memoir, The Story of the Streets, a year later.

With the DOT, he seems happy to take the back seat. "I always wanted to be the other guy in the Pet Shop Boys," he says when we suggest he is playing the Chris Lowe figure in this new outfit. "I always wanted to be a producer. When I was starting the Streets, I didn't want to have any photos taken." Yet still his rise was fast. "The moment it became a pop star thing, it exploded and fell away to nothing. But I like that."

After two years of gestation, Skinner and Harvey are now making their move. "We've been in the middle of the sea with no land in sight," says Skinner. "Now we can see land." Last October, they released an album, And That, a crossover of dance and classic soul that was received well, but never threatened to set the world on fire. "Time will tell if the DOT is a destination or just a staging post," wrote the Guardian's Michael Hann.

Just a staging post, it turned out – since they have just released another record, Diary, which they regard as their debut. Skinner seems vaguely annoyed that not everyone realised that. "We've been making Diary for two years," he explains. When the duo announced they now sounded "like Elton John", many thought they were joking. But Diary bears that out, with swollen, emotional paeans such as Blood Sweat and Tears delivered with the hard edge of Skinner's dancefloor days. Skinner does the odd vocal, but Harvey is the revelation, delivering emotional poetry with real soul.

They met through a shared manager and became friends, with Harvey contributing vocals to the final Streets record, 2011's Computers and Blues. "Mike's technically gifted," says Yorkshireman Harvey. "He works hard. I tend not to work very hard – I go by instinct. If someone puts me in a room, I'll have 25 minutes of absolute quality, then for the rest of the day I'm useless. But he can work to a high standard all day. That's really good for me."

Birmingham-born Skinner adds: "I am always drawn to someone who performs and sounds like they mean it. Now I'm a bit older, that's the only thing I take any notice of. Rob's an incredible singer technically, incredibly loud, and incredibly good melodically. I've worked with loads of good singers, but he sounds like he means it, on stage, every night. For that reason – oh God, I sound like Dragons' Den – I had to work with him."

They took their time, spending last year posting their video diaries online. These turned the story of the band into a surreal sitcom, casting them as a hapless odd couple – Spinal Tap meets Men Behaving Badly. The series had become a cult before anyone paid much attention to the music. Over a chintzy soundtrack, the voiceover to one recounted: "They decide to shun social media prophecy and return to musical naturism – just the two of them and some instruments and actual live contact with real people, in the form of intimate gigs in dirty places."

Which is why we're outside a pub in Hackney. Skinner clearly enjoys the spotlight a little too much to withdraw from it entirely, though. "I think I'm a better editor than I am a creator," he says. "You can still have a big impact. I hate the feeling of having written something and then having to rely on other people to know what to do with it. This way, I can see the wood for the trees." But there is one thing missing: "I would like to get to the point where we have a tour bus. I don't think that's out of the realms. Yeah, I'd like a bus."

"I'd like a couple of female backing vocalists, too," adds Harvey.

"You've never said that before," says Skinner. "They're not cheap. But we could be like the Human League. We'll go to a nightclub in Sheffield, pick up a couple of 16-year-olds, bang them on stage … " The 34-year-old checks himself and says, "put them on stage," before admitting there's one thing he would like more than a tour bus. "I want people to realise how serious I am. That will just take time."

Do you really worry about people thinking you're not serious? "That's just my thing at the moment. People assume it's a bit of a …" He can't find the words, but "silly vanity project" would probably cover it. He certainly appreciates how rare it is for anyone to have success on the level of the Streets twice. However, even if the pair, as renowned former hedonists, are overdoing the earnestness a little as they settle into their 30s, in the quietly demented strains of Diary, it's clear neither has lost his flair.

Before heading in for a soundcheck, Skinner suddenly realises exactly what his new band sounds like. "Yeah!" he exclaims. "Rod Stewart and the Prodigy – the Rodigy!"

• For tour details and video diaries, visit the-dot.net