You can’t imagine it, the singer states. There she was gearing up for her first album release in nearly a decade, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and at long last the mother of a toddler after dealing with conception issues for ten years, riding high. Suddenly in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The artist, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, her latest release, was intended as an transparent story, dealing with every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last recorded music (endometriosis, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with her usual frankness. The initial release, her single No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was giving interviews about how she was living her best life, while all the while dealing with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they ask, ‘What’s happening?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for reconstructive surgery.
We meet at a studio in London. She is wearing a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with ornate white designs, off-white boots and oversized specs. Picture motorcycle style meets vintage look. “As if I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “That’s what people called me at school!” She grins. Cornish is fast-thinking, irreverent and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her initial standup show next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I often tease the fans.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was planning an performance at the ceremony when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I responded, ‘But I can feel it. I’ve got an achy arm and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The doctor told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Are you sitting down?.’ That sympathetic voice? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. The timing is terrible.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Men have called me difficult because I’m a strong person who understands who I am
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. During crises you roll down in a bed, but now I just strolled down with a gown on and my backside out. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer is awful, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal recently and my right breast now resembles a odd shape.” A further beam. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a rough time. So rude! 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 no stranger to illness. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, functioning as a wake-up call, or punch in the stomach, to make her recall not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Things going well? Take a seat.’ From a young age, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her youth, already beginning performing in the London theater in a musical (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was found to have the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward several years, and teenage Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while enrolled in the performing arts school. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
