You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was gearing up for her new album launch in nearly a decade, ecstatically in love with her current love, and at long last the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for ten years, feeling invincible. Then in spring she was diagnosed with cancer in her breast.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The album, the provocatively titled album, was intended as an candid account, tackling every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometrial issues, losing a baby, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicide) with characteristic openness. The first single, No Secrets, was released in the spring. But by then there was a mighty secret. The cancer. Later follow-up track, Living My Best Life, debuted in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while all the while dealing with her cancer. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “Seriously?” expression. “I put out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting cosmetic procedures.
We meet at a studio in London. She is dressed in a light brown synthetic jacket, denim trousers with ornate white designs, beige footwear and large glasses. Imagine biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is quick, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I often tease the crowd.”
Personal Battles and News
The artist was preparing for an slot at the awards show when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an test, and they were, like, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was bad news she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she describes it, it was just bad timing to receive a diagnosis when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from releasing the album after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I join the call believing it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have indicated aggressive cancer.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ The first thing I thought was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you roll down in a bed, but now I just walked with a medical attire and my backside out. It felt surreal.” But, Cornish says, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the surgery. “It’s terrible, but yet I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy a few months back and my affected breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is for health and appearance. Her breasts, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. How rude! I felt, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! Ironically I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is no stranger to illness. She believes her attitude toward illness has been so optimistic because she’s familiar with health crises. Frequently they align with professional successes, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or shock, to remind her not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Hold on.’ From a young age, it has always gone alongside moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She takes me back 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 a syndrome, which can cause a fast heartbeat as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward six years, and teenage Jess has entered the female band the group while studying at the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a stroke. Then when I was planning to release songs in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, wait, I need a moment. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
