You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was preparing for her comeback record in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for ten years, riding high. Then in March she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The album, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, came out in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly dealing with her cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She gives me her best “Are you kidding?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, cream boots and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. She is fast-thinking, bold and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. During performances I often tease the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have come back as malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, but this time I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Thank fuck I found it early. The surgery happened recently and my right breast now looks like a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “different sizes. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her childhood, already starting her career performing in the stage in a musical (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and teenage Jess has entered the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Wow, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees