You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment readying for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while coping with the disease. Four weeks after she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. She is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
She was planning an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to get cancer when she had so much on.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just marched with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened a few months back and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is familiar with health problems. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
