You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was preparing for her comeback record in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for a decade, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The LP, her latest release, was meant as an open book, addressing every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with characteristic openness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was thriving, while at the same time dealing with breast cancer. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She gives me her best “Seriously?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think motorcycle style meets vintage look. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, thinking of the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I basically roast the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
Cornish was planning an performance at the awards show when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I responded, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had assured herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be positive, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your biopsy results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They walk you down. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just strolled down with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my one side now looks like a odd shape.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her chest, she notes, are now “different sizes. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
The singer is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with health crises. Many times they occur alongside professional successes, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the stage in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and teenage Jess has joined the trio the group while enrolled in the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, slow down, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
