You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. There she was readying for her comeback record in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, birth name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was meant as an open book, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with typical candour. The first single, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in May and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with the disease. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “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 film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her standup debut next year. “I love making people laugh. On stage I basically roast the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the Monday. By then she had convinced herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my one side now resembles a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
She is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her childhood, already beginning featuring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a long period.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
