You can’t imagine it, the singer states. There she was readying for her new album launch in eight years, blissfully happy with her recent boyfriend, and finally the mom to a little one after dealing with conception issues for a decade, riding high. Suddenly in spring she was told she had cancer in her breast.
The musician, real name Jessica Cornish, is renowned for telling it as it is. The record, the provocatively titled album, was meant as an transparent story, addressing every bit of hardship she’d faced since she last recorded music (endometrial issues, pregnancy loss, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with typical candour. The first single, the song No Secrets, was launched in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. The illness. Then next release, the upbeat Living My Best Life, debuted in late spring and the artist was talking to press about how she was living her best life, while still secretly living with her cancer. Subsequently she disclosed her condition, and in July she underwent breast removal surgery.
She offers me her best “Seriously?” look. “I release with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every press talk, and they inquire, ‘So what’s new with you?’ and I respond, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to postpone shows because she’s yet to undergo cosmetic procedures.
Our interview takes place at a studio in the capital. She is sporting a beige fake-leather jacket, jeans with elaborate white patches, cream boots and big frames. Imagine biker chic meets vintage look. “It seems like I’m in the 1970s and I should have a partner with a mustache.” A biker reference, I say, thinking of the film. “I was nicknamed that in school!” She beams. Cornish is quick, irreverent and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show next year. “I like entertaining. During performances I frequently joke about the fans.”
Cornish was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she found a lump. “I quickly sought to get it looked at, had an test, and they said, ‘It appears fine; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and numbness in my fingers whenever I rise.’ And they replied, ‘How about a biopsy?’ It happened on March 28, the following my birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The doctor told her if it was serious she’d call on the start of the week. By then Cornish had persuaded herself it was nothing. The way she explains it, it was just bad timing to face illness when she had many commitments.
“We’re two weeks away from launching this thing after a long hiatus and an extended break. And she contacted me and said, ‘Can you talk at six?’ And I thought, ‘Oh, it’s a Zoom, it won’t be anything.’ So I jump on the Zoom believing it’s all going to be positive, and she informs me, ‘Please take a seat.’ You know that sad tone they use? And she reveals, ‘I regret to inform you but your biopsy results have indicated high-grade cancer cells.’” What was your reaction? “I replied, ‘Well, that’s not great. That’s not fucking great timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘My child depends on me.’”
Some men find me challenging due to my self-awareness
She considered the operation terrifying and absurd. “I fear going under. They lead you. In urgent cases you go on a gurney, but now I just marched with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, Cornish says, she’s been blessed. No chemo, no radiotherapy, just the procedure. “Cancer is awful, but you know what? Luckily it was detected early. I had the mastectomy recently and my right breast now appears as a grapefruit under a tight bedsheet.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The follow-up procedure is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she notes, are now “asymmetrical. They didn’t do an implant as small as my original. How rude! I thought, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. How offensive! It’s funny because I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got perfectionism, and I know they’d never be perfect. My plans were disrupted.”
The singer is familiar with health problems. She thinks her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to medical emergencies. Frequently they align with career highs, functioning as a wake-up call, or blow, to make her recall not to assume everything is fine. “Truly, I feel the universe whispers, ‘Enjoying yourself? Sit down.’ Ever since I was a child, it has often paired with achievements for me; something severe or obscure has affected my well-being.”
She recalls to her youth, already making her debut performing in the London theater in the production (she was selected at the age of nine years old). That’s when she was found to have the cardiac issue WPW, which can cause a tachycardia as well as vertigo and irregular beats. “I was going in and out of rehearsals on an intravenous line, and going back into hospital at night.” She jumps ahead several years, and teenage Jess has become part of the female band the group while attending the Brit School. “I signed my initial contract, and I had a brain incident. Then when I was ready to debut in the year 2020 I had a collision and my voice box shifted and I lost my voice for a year.”
Hey, I say, slow down, I can’t keep up. At just 17? She nods|agrees
Maya Chen is a tech journalist and gaming expert with over a decade of experience covering digital trends and innovations.