You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. There she was gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The album, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every ounce of devastation she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and the artist was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly dealing with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photography studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, bold and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have shown malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ Immediately I felt 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 hate being put under. You’re escorted. During crises you go on a gurney, but this time I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened a few months back and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
The singer is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already starting her career featuring in the London theater in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
