The answer, it turns outs, when I listened to a few songs on YouTube, was to lift Lennon's vocals out of the murky sound-soup they had too often languished in. This wasn't so much remixing, as recreating.
Gimme Some Truth, from 1971's Imagine album, bristled with far greater intensity. It's pleading chorus more urgent, the word-play and rapping vocal dexterity of the verses even more impressive.
This was a fitting 2020 makeover for a song with contemporary relevance. The world isn't short of "uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocritics" or "neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians."
Instant Karma! (We All Shine On) was similarly revitalised to my ears. Lennon's voice, his greatest asset (though he was famously insecure about it), was front and centre. The lyrics, as simple as they are, more poignant because you can hear them clearer.
Reading about the story behind the remixes, I learnt that Lennon's son, Sean, had pushed Paul Hicks, the man in charge, to be bold.
The directive to showcase his father's voice was applied to every track, but the music wasn't neglected. Guitar parts are more noticeable, horns are sharper, the drums snap.
It's the songs off Mind Games and Walls and Bridges that benefit most. They now sound whole next to tracks from Plastic Ono Band, Imagine and Double Fantasy.
I Know (I Know) is revealed as the beautiful song it was always striving to be. Even Whatever Gets You Through the Night, a duet with Elton John that not many would claim to love, is improved.
Because these songs from different albums have been remixed at the same time, with the same tools and same intent, the compilation holds together as a listening experience better than previous ones. The songs occupy a similar sound space.
The selection of songs and the stylish packaging, featuring a previously unseen photo of a bearded, ponytail wearing Lennon, is aimed at a new generation of listeners.
Songs like Give Peace A Chance, Power To The People, Love and of course Imagine, have a message that's still worth hearing.
Let's hope that online "cancel culture" doesn't get in the way of younger generations coming to appreciate the songs of a complex and contradictory man.
Lennon's admission that he hit his first wife on at least one occasion and was hardly a model father for his first son, Julian, are reasons given for some young people refusing to engage with his music.
That's a pity, as the mature Lennon came closer than most male rock stars to talking about and embracing feminist ideas. Yoko, a forceful personality, would have accepted nothing else.
Lennon, in songs and in life, always valued honesty. Listening to this compilation, I'm reminded that he was never faking it.
His gift was a voice that could communicate emotions as diverse as anger, boredom, infatuation, despair, hope and love.
No other pop singer I can think of can pull off the range of emotions that Lennon's voice could convey with ease.
He was never content writing pop songs for their own sake, he was interested, even inside the hit-factory of the Beatles, in what a pop song could do.
Writing a song could be a way of channelling his own pain. It could be a genuine attempt to change people's thinking about war, religion or romantic love. It wasn't always pretty, but it was always sincere.
That's a quality to value in both art and politics.
Maybe the world can find a place for a renewed appreciation of this man's talents and lasting relevance.
