You can’t imagine it, the singer says. There she was preparing for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The artist, actual name J. Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The LP, her latest release, was supposed to be an candid account, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in May and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while at the same time living with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Think motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the picture. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut next year. “I like entertaining. When performing I basically roast the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor 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 describes it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a rough time. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the London theater in the production (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and teenage Jess has joined the girl group Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
