THE SUGARCUBES “Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week.” Elektra *** 1/2: <i> Albums are rated on a scale of one (poor) to five (a classic) stars.</i>

Apparently, there’s no Icelandic word for sophomore slump . This Reykjavik band, whose debut album “Life’s Too Good” was one of the most bracing releases of 1988, has come up with a second effort that is less so only because the group’s distinctive, angular sound isn’t brand-spanking new any more.

But much of what made the debut so arresting is intact, with the superimposed, often conflicting views and styles of howling Einar Beneditksson and Bjork Gudmundsdottir ( the most incredible female singer in rock, bar none) is ever more the central feature of the songs. He thumbs his nose, rants, prattles, points and laughs. She alternately comments detachedly on a scene and outright revels in life’s offerings. He is mischievous Pan to her Voice of the Oracle. He is naughty Puck to her sensualist Titania. He is punky Eddie Haskell to her post-punk June Cleaver.

Well, not exactly. June Cleaver never sang about chastity belts and such. But then the Sugarcubes don’t really sing about chastity belts and such. They use such imagery--in mostly fragmented English--to conjure moods that are less nasty than they are tantalizing with hints of danger. What’s missing, to some extent, is the unfathomable but magnetic sense of mystery of the last album’s best songs, though the soaring “Regina” comes close. And if the spiritual door-knocking of the last album is not as strong this time, the gardens of earthly delights offered in “Pump” and “Eat the Menu” are nearly as intriguing.