You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in eight years, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive 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 known for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with typical candour. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was launched in the spring. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Then follow-up track, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with the disease. Four weeks after she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “Are you kidding?” look. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a photo studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, beige footwear and oversized specs. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, recalling the movie. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, unfiltered and direct. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut next year. “I enjoy humor. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
She was preparing for an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It seems benign; 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 said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she describes it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I was, like, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I log in expecting it’s all going to be good, and she says, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have come back as aggressive cancer.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
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 hospital gown and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, Cornish says, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now appears as a odd shape.” Another grin. “The nipple was preserved.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She feels her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s used to health crises. They have often coincided with career highs, acting as a reminder, or shock, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; a serious or unusual issue has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already beginning featuring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has joined the trio the group while attending the academy. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was planning to release songs in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my larynx moved up and I lost my voice for a year.”
Oi, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
