You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment gearing up for her comeback record in eight years, deeply enamored with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jess Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an candid account, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, unsuccessful partnerships, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was living her best life, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her standup debut soon. “I love making people laugh. When performing I often tease the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they told me, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and tingling in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after years away and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. 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 considered the operation scary and bizarre. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. During crises you roll down in a bed, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal a few months back and my affected breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be ideal. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, acting as a reminder, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the stage in the production (she was chosen at the age of 9). That’s when she was told about the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as dizziness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and young Jessica has joined the female band Soul Deep while enrolled in the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a long period.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
