You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, riding high. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was intended as an open book, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, broken romances, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Later follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her standup debut soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an performance at the awards show when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a gown on and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s experienced in physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already beginning starring in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio the group while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
