You can’t imagine it, the singer says. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Then in spring she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time living with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, recalling the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She beams. She is quick, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her initial standup show in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. On stage I basically roast the audience.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
Cornish was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after years away and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. 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 found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, but this time I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she notes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the London theater in the production (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in recently I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
