Jeff Vrabel

“He was angry and hurt that his home state had not embraced him,” says IU rock professor Glenn Gass.

“Name another sport where women brought men along,” says Chris French, a technical architect.

Rule No. 5: Be aware that everyone can hear your music. Do not bring crappy music.

If you’re looking to soak up some peace and quiet—and who isn’t?—then take the plunge and float your cares away.

Think back to the jump-roping you might have done in school—all that playground thudding and criss-crossing, while you intoned a few little rhymes. Now add spins, twists, multiple airborne teenagers, and some light breakdancing, and you’ve got the Indy Air Bears.

Three years and 32 sessions in, the group has upped its profile, scoring its first art exhibit and invitations to restricted spaces, like The Children’s Museum’s archives. They have roamed an empty Union Station and framed artsy shots of barbed wire at Traders Point Creamery.

“It’s odd—I’m someone who is not very gregarious, doesn’t crave attention, doesn’t talk much and am not that good at it. And yet for the longest single period in my life of doing one thing, that’s exactly what’s been required of me. That’s why I’m often told I seem cranky on-camera.”

Listen along as we explore the greatest musicians Indiana has produced. From deep cuts to chart topping hits, Indiana can hold its own with anyone in the music biz.

Here are our choices, presented in chronological order because we can’t really rank them. Well, except for maybe that one.