You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The album, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, pregnancy loss, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with the disease. A month later she went public, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in the capital. She is dressed in a beige fake-leather jacket, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, cream boots and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. She is quick, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance soon. “I like entertaining. When performing I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it checked, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they suggested, ‘How about 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 contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had convinced herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and an extended break. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom thinking it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. During crises you are wheeled, but then I just marched with a hospital gown and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my right breast now resembles 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 chest, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! Ironically I said I’d avoid breast surgery because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success 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 stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and young Jessica has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
