You wouldn’t believe it, the singer remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the parent to a young child after struggling to conceive for ten years, on top of the world. Then in March she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The singer-songwriter, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for speaking her mind. The album, her latest release, was meant as an candid account, addressing every moment of pain she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, miscarriage, broken romances, gaslighting, suicide) with her usual frankness. The initial release, the song No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. Her diagnosis. Later next release, 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 dealing with the disease. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in the start of summer she underwent breast removal surgery.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in London. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and oversized specs. Imagine motorcycle style meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Like the film, I say, thinking of the film. “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 planning to attempt her standup debut in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the fans.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an scan, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d reach out 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 a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have come back as malignant cells.’” What did you say? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She found the surgery frightening and surreal. “I dislike anesthesia. They walk you down. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but this time I just marched with a gown on and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now looks like a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “different sizes. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s experienced in physical challenges. They have often coincided with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Hold on.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She takes me back to her youth, already beginning featuring in the London theater in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as dizziness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She fast-forwards six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio Soul Deep while attending the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
