You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The lead track, No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Then second single, Living My Best Life, was released in May and the artist was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while living with her cancer. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the picture. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is quick, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her standup debut in the coming year. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
She was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after a long hiatus and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but this time I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my affected breast now looks like a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
She is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so upbeat because she’s experienced in medical emergencies. Frequently they align with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside high points for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut starring in the West End in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a collision and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
