You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. At that moment gearing up for her first album release in eight years, deeply enamored with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was found to have cancer in her breast.
The musician, real name J. Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The album, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, unsuccessful partnerships, gaslighting, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, was released in May and Cornish was talking to press about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in early July she received surgical treatment.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and oversized specs. Imagine rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the picture. “They used to call me that!” She grins. She is quick, irreverent and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her first comedy performance in the coming year. “I like entertaining. When performing I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ That was 28 March, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but now I just marched with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my one side now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside career highs, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied moments of success for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning starring in the stage in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She jumps ahead six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep 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 throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
