You wouldn’t believe it, the singer remarks. At that moment gearing up for her comeback record in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for a decade, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, failed relationships, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with characteristic openness. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later second single, Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was thriving, while still secretly living with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Are you kidding?” expression. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ 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 photography studio in London. She is sporting a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and large glasses. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the picture. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show soon. “I like entertaining. On stage I basically roast the fans.”
She was getting ready for an appearance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then the singer had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just walked with a gown on and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the procedure. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my right breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she notes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to health crises. Frequently they align with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her childhood, already making her debut featuring in the West End in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio Soul Deep while studying at the academy. “I secured a 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.”
Oi, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
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