NYC hermit Gobby opens his new album i guess bro with a song called “Party at My House,” and at first glance it seems as much like a one-joke pony as the album’s title. “There’s a party at my house,” he drawls in an utterly bored tone, sounding like the world’s most blasé host. But as the song goes on, it unmoors into druggier territory— Goosebumps string staccato, twee-pop bells, the urgent strumming of an acoustic guitar that sounds like it was barely tuned, let alone miked. If this is what a party sounds like, you have to break through a couple layers of abstraction to see the picture Gobby is trying to paint. And are those crickets? Not exactly the sound you’d want to hear echoing back at you at your function. Welcome to the world of Gobby, who’s consistently put out some of the strangest music of the legions of beatmakers turned solo auteurs that emerged from the blog-rap era.…