You couldn’t make it up, the singer remarks. At that moment preparing for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her current love, and at long last the parent to a young child after facing fertility challenges for a decade, on top of the world. Then in March she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The singer-songwriter, actual name Jessica Cornish, is known for being brutally honest. The LP, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d experienced since she last worked on songs (endometriosis, pregnancy loss, failed relationships, gaslighting, suicidal thoughts) with her usual frankness. The lead track, No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there was a mighty secret. The illness. Later second single, Living My Best Life, was released in late spring and Cornish was talking to press about how she was thriving, while at the same time dealing with her cancer. Four weeks after she went public, and in the start of summer she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” look. “I come out with a song called the track No Secrets. I’m giving every interview, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I respond, ‘Well, not much…’” the singer has just had to postpone shows because she’s awaiting reconstructive surgery.
Our interview takes place at a photography studio in London. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, denim trousers with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “I feel like I’m in the 70s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She smiles. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always been interested in humor and is hoping to make her standup debut next year. “I like entertaining. On stage I frequently joke about the audience.”
Personal Battles and News
Cornish was planning an performance at the ceremony when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it looked at, had an ultrasound, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the following my birthday.” It was a Friday. The physician told her if it was concerning she’d reach out on the Monday. By then Cornish had assured herself it was okay. The way she explains it, it was simply too inconvenient to face illness when she had many commitments.
“Just two weeks before from launching this thing after eight years without an album and four years without a single. And the doctor messaged and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ 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’m so, so sorry but your biopsy results have come back as high-grade cancer cells.’” How did you respond? “I answered, ‘That’s unfortunate. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She found the surgery terrifying and absurd. “I dislike anesthesia. They lead you. In urgent cases you are wheeled, but this time I just walked with a medical attire and my rear exposed. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the op. “Cancer sucks, man, but however Thank fuck I found it early. I underwent removal four months ago and my affected breast now resembles a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she observes, are now “asymmetrical. The size doesn’t match. So inconsiderate! I felt, no need to bully me, I’m already having a difficult experience. So rude! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got obsessive tendencies, and I know they’d never be perfect. Illness changed that.”
Past Medical Issues
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s familiar with physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to remind her not to be complacent. “Frankly, I feel life goes, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ From a young age, it has consistently accompanied high points for me; a major or strange event has happened to my health.”
She takes me back to her youth, already making her debut performing in the stage in Whistle Down the Wind (she was cast at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was told about the heart condition a syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and palpitations. “I attended rehearsals intermittently on an drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She skips forward half a dozen years, and 17-year-old Jess has joined the trio Soul Deep while attending the Brit School. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my throat was injured and I couldn’t sing for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
