You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The record, her latest release, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while all the while living with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I put out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and big frames. Imagine rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is fast-thinking, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was getting ready for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an scan, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then the singer had convinced herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘Unfortunately but your reports have indicated 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 considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! It’s funny because 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.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with career highs, acting as a reminder, or blow, to highlight not to be complacent. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back to her youth, already making her debut starring in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio the group while studying at the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
