You wouldn’t believe it, the singer says. At that moment readying for her comeback record in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and finally the mom to a little one after struggling to conceive for a decade, feeling invincible. Suddenly in March she was found to have breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jess Cornish, is famous for telling it as it is. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was intended as an open book, addressing every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last made an album (endometrial issues, miscarriage, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The initial release, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there existed a huge secret. The cancer. Later second single, her song Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and she was speaking publicly about how she was thriving, while at the same time coping with breast cancer. Subsequently she went public, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m conducting every press talk, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” she has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo follow-up surgery.
We meet at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, blue jeans with detailed white appliqués, cream boots and large glasses. Think rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “As if I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” Easy Rider, I say, recalling the movie. “That’s what people called me at school!” She smiles. She is sharp-witted, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is planning to attempt her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
She was getting ready for an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I immediately went to get it examined, had an ultrasound, and they were, like, ‘It seems benign; your breasts are normal.’ And I insisted, ‘However, it’s there. I have arm pain and pins and needles in my hands whenever I wake up.’ And they said, ‘We should biopsy it?’ It happened on March 28, the day after my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. 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 nothing. The way she tells it, it was simply too inconvenient to receive a diagnosis when she had a busy schedule.
“It was a fortnight prior from launching this thing after eight years without an album and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I was, like, ‘A video call, likely minor.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be fine, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ That sympathetic voice? And she continues, ‘Unfortunately but your test results have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ Immediately I felt was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They lead you. In urgent cases you roll down in a bed, but this time I just strolled down with a medical attire and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the surgery. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened recently and my affected breast now resembles a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “uneven. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a hard period. Such disrespect! It’s funny because I said I’d never get my boobs done because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She feels her attitude toward illness has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with peak moments, serving as a tap on the shoulder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Honestly, I feel fate says, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career performing in the West End in a musical (she was cast at the age of 9). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse 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 jumps ahead half a dozen years, and teenage Jess has joined the female band Soul Deep while studying at the performing arts school. “I secured a deal, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in 2020 I had a car crash and my voice box shifted and I couldn’t sing for a year.”
Wow, I say, hold on, I am overwhelmed. A stroke so young? She nods|agrees
