Backstage at the Blue Note jazz club, Wyclef Jean spreads out on a couch with the air of a sunned cat, his temperament dialed warm. His rider contains only healthful snacks: granola bars, melon slices, grapes large as ping-pong balls. The smell of weed seeps through the doors. Does he still smoke? “Do fish swim?” he responds. Jean has two personalities, he attests: “the peaceful one here, and the bonkers one onstage.” Right now, the rascal in him slumbers, briefly glimpsed now and again behind dark shades. We are here just days after the death of John Forté, a close friend and collaborator whose role in shaping the Fugees’ platinum-selling sound has long been under-credited. “We would talk all the time,” he says. His last text to Forté reads: “Yo, text me, so I know you okay?” There was no reply. “He had this smile that shook the universe.” Lately, memory has become Jean’s greatest inspiration. It’s the second night of his five-night residency at Blue Note Los Angeles, in which he performs a carnivalesque …