When people tell Sebadoh singer-guitarist Lou Barlow that his group’s fifth album, “Bakesale,’’ changed their life, Barlow understands completely. The album — and more specifically, the time he spent living in Boston recording it — changed his too.

“I had a really good time making that record,’’ recalls Barlow, whose band hits the Paradise next Thursday for the US leg of its “Remembering Time’’ tour. “I had moved to Boston in ’91 and around the time we did ‘Bakesale,’ things had finally started to come together.’’

The two-month trek coincides with a deluxe reissue of 1994’s “Bakesale,’’ Sebadoh’s most accessible and commercially successful effort. (The remastered album, which Sub Pop is re-releasing in June with 25 bonus tracks of B-sides and demos, is also out next month on European label Domino). Joining Barlow and longtime Sebadoh member Jason Loewenstein this time out will be Fiery Furnaces drummer Robert D’Amico.

Sebadoh had always seemed to draw creative energy from upheaval, incertitude, and a degree of open-ended chaos. Before making “Bakesale,’’ Sebadoh cofounding drummer Eric Gaffney had quit, and singer-guitarist Loewenstein had moved to Louisville, Ky.

But Barlow (and Loewenstein, as it turned out) was writing, putting home recording experiments to tape, and soaking up the atmosphere of a new city. His surroundings and circum stances seemed to take on an idyllic, even magical, quality. Serendipity played a part too.

“I had my friend Bob Fay, who was filling in on drums for Eric, and he worked at [the local record store] In Your Ear in Harvard Square and also out near [Boston University],’’ says Barlow, who, with his girlfriend (and now wife), lived in Somerville before moving to the North End. “When I wasn’t touring, I had this kind of cool life puttering around Boston, taking the subways around, buying records, and Bob had this pretty cool place to practice in Charlestown. It was a really positive period, and I kind of fell in love with living in Boston.’’

What’s ironic is that sour-sweet songs such as “License to Confuse,’’ “Not Too Amused,’’ and “Rebound’’ — many of them wrapped tightly in thorny thickets of buzzing electric guitar — made “Bakesale’’ sound like a wounded, keenly compact kiss-off. But underpinning it all was a newfound pop sensibility that had rarely been hinted at on Sebadoh’s previous albums.