You couldn’t make it up, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her comeback record in nearly a decade, deeply enamored with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after facing fertility challenges for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in March she was found to have cancer in her breast.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for being brutally honest. The record, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every ounce of devastation she’d endured since she last recorded music (a gynecological condition, losing a baby, failed relationships, emotional abuse, suicidal thoughts) with characteristic openness. The first single, her single No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The cancer. Then second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in May and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with her cancer. A month later she disclosed her condition, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m giving every media appearance, and they ask, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Erm, yeah, nothing …’” Cornish has just had to cancel tour dates because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a studio in the capital. She is dressed in a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and big frames. Picture biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” A biker reference, I say, recalling the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Jessie is fast-thinking, bold and blunt. She says she has always been interested in humor and is aiming for her initial standup show soon. “I like entertaining. During performances I basically roast the fans.”
Health Struggles and Diagnosis
The artist was preparing for an slot at the Baftas when she noticed an abnormality. “I immediately went to get it checked, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It appears fine; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I responded, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I get up.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a Friday. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then she had convinced herself it was fine. The way she tells it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had many commitments.
“It was a fortnight prior from debuting the project after eight years without an album and no new music. And she contacted me and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I join the call expecting it’s all going to be good, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she continues, ‘I regret to inform you but your test results have shown malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I replied, ‘That’s unfortunate. That’s not fucking great timing.’ Immediately I felt 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 frightening and surreal. “I fear going under. You’re escorted. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but then I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my backside out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she adds, she’s been fortunate. Without chemo or radio, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. I had the mastectomy four months ago and my one side now resembles a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The subsequent surgery is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her breasts, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, why make it worse, I’m already having a difficult experience. Such disrespect! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her perspective on the cancer has been so optimistic because she’s used to medical emergencies. Frequently they align with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or shock, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with moments of success for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her youth, already beginning featuring in the West End in the production (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the medical problem WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and heart flutters. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an IV drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the female band Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I just got my first record deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was ready to debut in recently I had a car crash and my throat was injured and I lost my voice for a long period.”
Oi, I say, hold on, I need a moment. At just 17? She nods|agrees
