If Exy were an airplane making a landing, it would swerve from side to side down the runway before roving to whatever terminal held the greatest number of prospective passengers. Where it would fly them is anybody’s guess, although you can bet on a few aerobatic maneuvers over the Mediterranean.

Since opening in December as a restaurant-lounge, Exy has aspired to be a “sexy” destination for “chic Greek” cuisine, which of late has veered off course after losing its original chef and because too many customers expecting dishes like moussaka, spanokopita and baklava didn’t fully embrace the kitchen’s experimental spin on traditional Greek fare – or lack thereof. So with a new chef in place hailing from Fiore restaurant at Harrah’s Rincon, an all-purpose American-Mediterranean menu has emerged in an awkward attempt to grab mainstream palates.

Yes, there is saganaki (flaming cheese), along with decent Greek salad, Greek-inspired chicken pizza, Greek meatballs, white bean hummus and a smattering of dishes sprinkled with feta cheese. But the menu’s remainders absorb a hodgepodge of culinary influences from France, Italy and California, leaving me to believe that Exy is trying to be too many things at once.

A confused identity spills into the atmosphere as well, despite suave design elements and ample elbow room. A wall of soothing colored light behind the reception desk divides a modern-urban lounge from a spacious dining room bathed in faddish brown. Soft lighting and relaxed seating pervade, but Exy’s dueling sound system is a major faux pas.

Emanating from the lounge were the likes of U2 and other rocker music conflicting terribly with low-beat trance and Amy Winehouse-type jazz washing over the dining room. A customer in a nearby booth beat me to the chase in complaining about the audible chaos, asking the manager if he could pull the plug on one of the music sources. His request was granted, but only for about 15 minutes until entirely different tunes began battling again simultaneously.

In regards to the food, I’ll take the “glass-is-half-full” approach by starting with the positives. Purplish kalamata olive aioli served with hot pita bread immediately thrilled my dinner companion and grew on me as I revisited it after getting swept up in buttery-tasting white bean hummus. Also savory was a tomato tower layered with fresh mozzarella and basil. But don’t expect caprese. Roasted eggplant, mint and mache lettuce in the foundation make the dish immensely more interesting.

Flaming kasseri cheese offers the usual tableside spectacle as the waitperson douses the brandy-fueled fires with lemon juice. Here, however, the bubbling curds are punctuated with capers and caper berries, adding extra zing to the flavor scheme. Also pleasing was the Greek salad, a spring mix strewn with olives, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers and French feta, which melts on the tongue with a creamier and less salty essence compared to Greek feta.

An order of Greek meatballs made with a 50-50 mix of beef and lamb offered a weak goodbye to the small-plates menu. Unlike steaks and chops that prove tender from undercooking, course ground meat doesn’t behave so obediently in the mouth when it’s half raw. The meatballs were pink and squishy in the middle and served in koki-nisto sauce, a pleasant Exy-named concoction of plum tomatoes, roasted garlic and balsamic that would appear repeatedly in other dishes throughout our meal.

My companion’s angel hair pasta had it, but to no surprise since the sauce is listed in the dish’s description as joining up with feta and basil. Redundancy struck, however, when it unexpectedly showed up in my entrée of shrimp scampi made with feta and oregano, plus a side order of fibrous, undercooked green beans. At this point, after eating four dishes containing koki-nisto, I needed a lifeboat.

Other choices include BBQ-glazed salmon, lamb, sautéed chicken breast, filet mignon and seared scallops combined with a semi-ordinary drink list featuring several Ouzo-based cocktails and a courteous wine selection that ran short of its only Greek label the night we visited. (Perhaps a further sign the restaurant is inching away from its original concept?)

Desserts are high-ranking, especially the lemon-fig cheesecake that was refreshingly tart, mildly sweet. But we waited endlessly for molten lava chocolate cake because disaster ensued the first time around by a cook who didn’t know how to make it. Apparently the chef came to his rescue on the second try – this, according to our waiter, who proved professional and efficient despite handling more tables than a lead server should have to endure alone.

As for the Exy patronage, we witnessed a mishmash of loungers in designer threads, dudes in jeans and ball caps, mature couples (hoping perhaps for a quieter dinner) and a young family pacifying a crying tot. With so many meal and atmospheric offerings under one roof, I’d expect this downtown fishbowl to be filled with nothing less.