You can’t imagine it, the singer says. There she was preparing for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with her usual frankness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with the disease. A month later she shared the news, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and oversized specs. Picture biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “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 movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her standup debut soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I often tease the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was inopportune to get cancer when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she reveals, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but however Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my one side now looks like a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I reflected, no need to bully me, 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 perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s used to medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine). 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 irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
