You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was diagnosed with a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, actual name Jess Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, tackling every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, psychological manipulation, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The lead track, No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Then next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in early July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and large glasses. Think biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “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 initial standup show in the coming year. “I love making people laugh. During performances I basically roast the crowd.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an performance at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It looks like nothing; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘Yet I sense it. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they suggested, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘I regret to inform you but your reports have indicated malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. The timing is terrible.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you are wheeled, but this time I just marched with a gown on and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, she adds, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal a few months back and my one side now appears as a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her chest, she observes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, 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 ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with medical emergencies. They have often coincided with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or blow, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied achievements for me; a major or strange event has affected my well-being.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already making her debut performing in the London theater in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an drip, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and young Jessica has become part of the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Wow, I say, wait, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
