You can’t imagine it, the singer says. There she was gearing up for her first album release in eight years, blissfully happy with her newish partner, and at long last the mom to a little one after facing fertility challenges for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in March she was told she had a breast cancer diagnosis.
The musician, birth name Jess Cornish, is known for speaking her mind. The record, Don’t Tease Me With a Good Time, was supposed to be an open book, dealing with every moment of pain she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, losing a baby, broken romances, gaslighting, mental health struggles) with typical candour. The lead track, her single No Secrets, was dropped in the spring. But by then there existed a huge secret. The illness. Then second single, the upbeat Living My Best Life, was released in May and she was giving interviews about how she was thriving, while all the while coping with her cancer. Subsequently she shared the news, and in July she had a mastectomy.
She shoots me her best “What the fuck?” glance. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every media appearance, and they’re, like, ‘Any updates?’ and I’m, like, ‘Well, not much…’” she has just had to call off performances because she’s still waiting for cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a photo studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and big frames. Think biker chic meets 1970s Nana Mouskouri. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a man with facial hair.” Like the film, I say, referencing the movie. “They used to call me that!” She beams. Cornish is fast-thinking, unfiltered and filter-free. She says she has always wanted to try comedy and is aiming for her first comedy performance next year. “I love making people laugh. When performing I frequently joke about the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
She was getting ready for an performance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I promptly visited to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; you’ve got really good dense breast tissue.’ And I insisted, ‘But I can feel it. I have arm pain and numbness in my fingers whenever I wake up.’ And they replied, ‘We should biopsy it?’ The date was March 28, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The specialist told her if it was serious she’d contact on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was okay. 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 the doctor messaged and said, ‘Are you free at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom expecting it’s all going to be fine, and she says, ‘You might want to sit.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your test results have indicated malignant cells.’” What was your reaction? “I said, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She viewed the procedure frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but then I just walked with a medical attire and my bum hanging out. You feel like you’re in an episode of Black Mirror.” But, she notes, she’s been lucky. No chemotherapy or radiation, just the procedure. “Cancer sucks, man, but however I’m grateful it was caught soon. The surgery happened four months ago and my right breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” A further beam. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is for health and appearance. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. That’s impolite! I reflected, why make it worse, I’m already having a rough time. How offensive! Amusingly I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be flawless. My plans were disrupted.”
A History of Health Challenges
She is accustomed to medical issues. She thinks her outlook on her diagnosis has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. Frequently they align with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or punch in the stomach, to highlight not to assume everything is fine. “Frankly, I feel fate says, ‘Things going well? Sit down.’ Since childhood, it has always gone alongside achievements for me; something severe or obscure has impacted my body.”
She reminisces to her 11-year-old self, already beginning performing in the stage in the production (she was chosen at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was diagnosed with the cardiac issue Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a tachycardia as well as lightheadedness and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She skips forward six years, and 17-year-old Jess has entered the trio the group while studying at the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was about to put out music in the year 2020 I had a collision and my throat was injured and I was unable to vocalize for a twelve months.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I need a moment. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
