You can’t imagine it, the singer remarks. There she was readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, on top of the world. Then in March she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, real name J. Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last made an album (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The first single, the song No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and oversized specs. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, unfiltered and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her initial standup show in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I basically roast the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an slot at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, 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 nothing. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after eight years without an album and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call thinking 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 high-grade cancer cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a gown on 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 procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her chest, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The implant is larger than before. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut featuring in the West End in a musical (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has become part of the trio the group while enrolled in the academy. “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 was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
