You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her comeback record in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an candid account, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while all the while coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with ornate white designs, cream boots and large glasses. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, referencing the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her standup debut in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an test, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I hate being put under. They lead you. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but this time I just marched with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The next operation is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She believes her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, acting as a reminder, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut featuring in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
