You wouldn’t believe it, the singer remarks. At that moment readying for her first album release in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for ten years, riding high. Then in spring she was found to have a breast cancer diagnosis.
The artist, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d endured since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with typical candour. The initial release, 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 speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while still secretly coping with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in early July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s yet to undergo reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with detailed white appliqués, off-white boots and big frames. Think rocker vibe meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the picture. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She smiles. Cornish is quick, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show soon. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an appearance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. My arm hurts and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was concerning she’d call on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“We’re two weeks away from debuting the project after a long hiatus and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she goes, ‘You might want to sit.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she says, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have shown high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I said, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. 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 found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They walk you down. During crises you go on a gurney, 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 lucky. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy recently and my one side now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
She is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so upbeat because she’s used to health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her youth, already making her debut performing in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was found to have the cardiac issue a syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I rehearsed between visits on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and young Jessica has joined the trio Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
