You couldn’t make it up, the singer states. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and finally the mother of a toddler after struggling to conceive for a decade, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for being brutally honest. The record, her latest release, was supposed to be an open book, tackling every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last made an album (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, broken romances, psychological manipulation, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was dropped in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was giving interviews about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while all the while dealing with her cancer. A month later she went public, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She offers me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they inquire, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Well, not much…’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s still waiting for follow-up surgery.
Our interview takes place at a studio in London. She is wearing a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, off-white boots and big frames. Imagine biker chic meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the seventies and I should have a boyfriend with a big tache.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. Jessie is sharp-witted, irreverent and direct. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is hoping to make her first comedy performance next year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was preparing for an performance at the ceremony when she noticed an abnormality. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an test, and they told me, ‘It looks like nothing; your breasts are normal.’ And I was, like, ‘However, it’s there. I’ve got an achy arm and pins and needles in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘How about a biopsy?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was concerning she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was fine. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to get cancer when she had so much on.
“We’re two weeks away from releasing the album after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I thought, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she says, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have come back as malignant cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘Oh, that’s not ideal, is it?. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘I have to survive for my boy.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but then I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my bum hanging out. It felt surreal.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Luckily it was detected early. The surgery happened four months ago and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” She smiles again. “At least the nipple remains.”
The next operation is therapeutic and aesthetic. Her chest, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I thought, 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 obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
Previous Struggles
The singer is no stranger to illness. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so upbeat because she’s used to physical challenges. Many times they occur alongside peak moments, acting as a reminder, or shock, to remind her not to be complacent. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘Enjoying yourself? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with high points for me; a major or strange event has impacted my body.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut performing in the West End in Whistle Down the Wind (she was chosen at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the medical problem Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an drip, and being readmitted at night.” She skips forward several years, and teenage Jess has joined the girl group Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in recently I had a collision and my larynx moved up and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I can’t keep up. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
