'80s Rock Frontman Remembered for Grit, Guts, and a Voice That Never Quit
David Roach, one of the last true frontmen of late-'80s grit-rock, passed away at 59 after a battle with cancer. But if you knew his music, you know he didn’t go quietly.
The longtime lead singer of Junkyard died this week at 59 after a battle with cancer, peacefully and surrounded by family. But peace was never the sound Roach chased. He was all power chords, busted amps, and blue-collar truth, and that's exactly how fans will remember him.
The band confirmed the news with a gut-punch of an Instagram post: "He was a gifted artist, performer, songwriter, and singer—but above all, a devoted father, husband, and brother."
Roach came up in a time when hair was big, sleeves were optional, and L.A.’s Sunset Strip was spilling over with leather-clad hopefuls. But Junkyard wasn’t playing dress-up. Blending Southern rock swagger with punk energy and metal edge, they were the anti-glam band that somehow got lumped into glam’s orbit—and Roach was its defiant heartbeat.
"David Roach was such a real one," reads one Instagram comment. "An incredible singer, blooze man & genuine sweetheart." Another fan thanked Roach for his work. "Thanks for all the music Roach," they said. "It lives on"
In an era when polish sold, Roach brought grime. His voice was raspy but resolute, full of cigarette ash and soul. He didn’t posture. He testified. If you were one of the lucky ones to catch him onstage in the '80s or stumbled across a YouTube clip more recently, it was obvious this guy meant it.
Those who followed Roach’s fight with cancer knew he handled it the same way he handled the stage: head-on, no bulls—it. He didn’t ask for pity. And like any great frontman, he didn’t go down without one last show of strength.
To casual listeners, he might’ve been a footnote in a loud decade. But to fans, especially those who still wear band tees like armor, Roach was a voice that cracked because it had something to say. He may be gone, but you can still crank “Hollywood” with the windows down and find comfort in music that doesn't apologize for being raw.