NOT A.C., BUT D.C. LaCROIX
When her parents gave Sylvie LaCroix—their seven-yearold daughter—a plastic guitar, they had no idea that it was only the beginning. “I first remember listening to the radio when I was four years old,” D.C. LaCroix’s vocalist recalls, “and I went totally crazy!
NOT A.C., BUT D.C. LaCROIX
Elianne Halbersberg
When her parents gave Sylvie LaCroix—their seven-yearold daughter—a plastic guitar, they had no idea that it was only the beginning. “I first remember listening to the radio when I was four years old,” D.C. LaCroix’s vocalist recalls, “and I went totally crazy! When I was six or seven, the Beatles were really happening, but I heard ‘Jailhouse Rock’ and ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ and that was when I knew. So I had this little guitar that I ate with, slept with, took everywhere with me. I would stand in front of the mirror pretending that I was Elvis! My parents said, ‘How cute! We’ve got a little rock star!’—assuming, of course, that I would eventually outgrow it. But I knew what I wanted. It’s just getting there that took a long time!”