My fear set in immediately when I saw the CD cover. The slight man clutching his stomach had a blank stare that seemed to indicate he was on debilitating narcotics. His facial expression also seemed to predict he could not find his way out of an empty room.

Mat Kearney is not a well-known name, but his songs are gaining exposure. His title track from “Nothing Left to Lose,” was featured in the Jennifer Garner film, “Catch and Release.” That is scary enough.

Even my justifiable fear could not prepare me for the disastrous effort that is “Nothing Left to Lose.” I was initially surprised when I heard the first track, “Undeniable.” The guitar introduction sounded like rock, and shockingly so did Kearney’s voice. Then he started rapping, and I laughed uncontrollably. Maybe it was intentional, because it starts out like any other soft rock song for women to swoon over. The inexplicable rapping only makes sense if it was inserted for comic relief. If not, it shatters the unintentional comedy scale.

Kearny does his best Counting Crows impersonation with the title track. TV junkies will recognize this song from the “Catch and Release” movie ads. That clunker, which confirms the castration of actor and director Kevin Smith, fits perfectly with this song: sappy, soft, boring and nearly identical to the songs used to promote other vacuous entertainment. At least Kearney can cater to his audience.

Why does Kearney tease the listener with guitar plucking before his horrendous raps? It becomes more frustrating than comical in “Girl America.” Never has someone with such a wimpy appearance tried to sound so tough while rapping. Sadly, Kearney displays the voice that his audience loves only during the refrain. His insistence on rapping is painful and senseless.

“In the Middle” is ruined by more monotone rapping, which sounds more like a drug-addled man trying to speak. The decent guitar and piano instrumentals are again lost in Kearney’s ridiculous attempts to rhyme.

By the sixth track I was begging Kearney to stick with strumming his guitar and singing, but again he disappoints. “Can’t Break Her Fall” follows the course of all the others; some solid instrumentals, a lyrical interlude and annoying pseudo-rap. Kearney just can’t help himself.

“What’s a Boy to Do,” is a perfect illustration of why one should be careful what they ask for. There is no rapping, but Kearney takes a page from current “hard” rockers who spend most of their time complaining about their parents. Poor Mat had to deal with his father looking down on him and telling him he couldn’t finish a fight. Kearney asks, “What’s a boy to do when there’s no man at home?” His father must have asked, “What’s a father to do when his son won’t stop whining or making futile attempts to rap?”

By the time “Wait” comes along, the album is almost too much to bear. This is the worst attempt at rap I have ever heard. I feel as if I’m trapped in VH1’s next reality show; “The White Rapper Show 2: Wuss Rock Edition.”

Kearney would be better off strictly using piano, guitar and vocals. Instead, he insists on using essentially the same raps in every song. The elements of quality soft rock (is that an oxymoron?) are there, but it is impossible to get past Kearney’s apparent identity crisis that convinces him he can rhyme.

Columbia Records should be ashamed of themselves for promoting Kearney. However, judging by the current crop of popular music, they probably do not feel shameful on their way to the bank. Cashing in on low standards is what the entertainment industry is all about.

Glenn Forbes can be reached at [email protected].