You wouldn’t believe it, the singer remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly living with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be fine, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but now I just marched with a hospital gown and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy recently and my right breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she observes, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a serious or unusual issue has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
