You can’t imagine it, the singer states. At that moment preparing for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an transparent story, addressing every moment of pain she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The first single, No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Then follow-up track, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly coping with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” the singer has just had to call off performances because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photo studio in London. She is wearing a light brown synthetic jacket, blue jeans with ornate white designs, beige footwear and oversized specs. Imagine rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the film. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, bold and direct. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance soon. “I love making people laugh. On stage I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was planning an slot at the awards show when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after eight years without an album and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She found the surgery scary and bizarre. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but now I just walked with a hospital gown and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I underwent removal recently and my right breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “The nipple was preserved.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is familiar with health problems. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward several years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio the group while studying at the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
