You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, on top of the world. Then in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, broken romances, emotional abuse, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and Cornish was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with breast cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We’re at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is fast-thinking, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her standup debut next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-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 assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after a long hiatus and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ 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 fine, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my one side now appears as a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I thought, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is familiar with health problems. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, acting as a reminder, or shock, to highlight not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
